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r. 


THE 


WORKS 


OF 


SYMON^PATRICK,  D.D, 


SOMETIME  BISHOP  OF  ELY. 


INCLUDING  HIS  AUTOBIOGRAFIIY. 


EDITED  BY 

THE  REV.  ALEXANDER  TAYLOR,  M.A. 

MICHEL  FELLOW  OF  QUEBN'S  COLLEGE,  OXFORD. 


IN  NINE  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  L 


OXFORD: 

AT  THE  UNIVERSITY  TRESS. 
M.DCCC.LVIII. 


GENERAL  CONTENTS. 


VOL.  I.  PAGE 

AQUA  GENITALIS,  A  DISCOUESE  CONCERNING  BAPTISM  .  1 

MENSA  MYSTICA,  A  DISCOURSE  CONCERNING  THE  SA- 
CRAMENT OF  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER   Co 

THE  CHRISTIAN  SACRIFICE,  &c   319 

A  BOOK  FOR  BEGINNERS,  OR  AN  HELP  TO  YOUNG  COM- 
MUNICANTS   

VOL.  IL 

A  TREATISE  OF  THE  NECESSITY  AND  FREQUENCY  OF 

RECEIVING  THE  HOLY  COMMUNION,  &c   1 

A   BRIEF  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  TEN  COMMANDMENTS 

AND  THE  LORD'S  PRAYER    03 

THE  DEVOUT  CHRISTIAN  INSTRUCTED  HOW  TO  PRAY 

AND  GIVE  THANKS  TO  GOD,  &c   107 

JESUS  AND  THE    RESURRECTION  JUSTIFIED,   OR  THE 

WITNESSES  TO  CHRISTIANITY.    Part  1   335 

►  VOL.  IIL 

JESUS  AND  THE  RESURRECTION    JUSTIFIED,  OR  THE 

WITNESSES  TO  CHRISTIANITY.    Part  II   1 

THE  GLORIOUS  EPIPHANY,  &c   347 

THE  HEART'S  EASE,  &c.,  WITH  THREE  DISCOURSES  AP- 
PENDED  493 

VOL.  IV. 

THE  PARABLE  OF  THE  PILGRIM   1 

ADVICE  TO  A  FRIEND   :Vt; 

A  TREATISE  OF  REPENTANCE  AND  FASTING,  &c   rr.i'J 

A  DISCOURSE  CONCERNING  PRAYER   fi:»!i 


iv 


GENERAL  CONTENTS. 


V  0  L.    V.  PAGE 

JEWISH  HYPOCRISY,  A  CAVEAT  TO  THE  PRESENT  GENE- 
RATION, &c   I 

THE  EPITOME  OF  MAN'S  DUTY   191 

A  FRIENDLY  DEBATE  BETWEEN  A  CONFORMIST  AND  A 

NONCONFORMIST,  &c.    Parti   253 

A  CONTINUATION  OF  THE  FRIENDLY  DEBATE    Part  II.   .  435 

VOL.  VL 

A  FURTHER    CONTINUATION   AND   DEFENCE    OF  THE 

FRIENDLY  DEBATE.    Part  III   1 

AN  APPENDIX  TO  THE  THIRD  PART  OF  THE  FRIENDLY 

DEBATE,  WITH  A  POSTSCRIPT    205 

A  LETTER  TO  THE  AUTHOR  OF  A  DISCOURSE  OF  ECCLE- 
SIASTICAL POLITY    387 

A  DISCOURSE  OF  PROFITING  BY  SERMONS,  &c.   405 

AN  EARNEST  REQUEST  TO  MR.  JOHN  STANDISH,  &c   433 

FALSEHOOD  UNMASKED,  &c   445 

A  DISCOURSE  ABOUT  TRADITION,  &c   471 

SEARCH  THE  SCRIPTURES,  &c   513 

A  SERMON  PREACHED  UPON  ST.  PETER'S  DAY,  WITH 

SOME  ENLARGEMENTS   CO? 

VOL.  VIL 

THE  TEXTS  EXAMINED  WHICH  PAPISTS  CITE  OUT  OF 

THE  BIBLE  TO  PROVE  THE  SUPREMACY  OF  ST.  PETER  i 
AND  OF  THE  POPE  OVER  THE  WHOLE  CHURCH   1 

THE  SECOND  NOTE  OF  THE  CHURQH  EXAMINED,  viz.  AN- 
TIQUITY '.   53 

THE  PILLAR  AND  GROUND  OF  TRUTH,  &c   CO 

AN  ANSWER  TO  THE  TOUCHSTONE  OF  THE  REFORMED 

GOSPEL   181 

THE  TRUTH  OF  CHRISTIAN  RELIGION  AGAINST  THE 
PRESENT  ROMAN  CHURCH,  AN  APPENDIX  TO  GRO- 
TIUS   339 

ON  SCHISM.  TWO  TRACTS  "WRITTEN  AT  THE  REQUEST  OF 

THE  COUNTESS  OF  LINDSAY   389 

SERMONS   403 -«08 


GENERAL  CONTENTS.  v 

VOL.     VIIL  PAGE 

SERMONS  1—543 

A  LETTER  TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  ELY   54.5 

THE  WORK  OF  THE  MINISTRY  REPRESENTED,  &c   553 

THE  DIGNITY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  PRIESTHOOD   599 

AN  EXHORTATION  TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  ELY   627 

VOL.  IX. 

FIFTEEN  SERMONS  UPON  CONTENTMENT,  AND  RESIG- 
NATION TO  THE  WILL  OF  GOD   1 

TWO  SERMONS  UPON  THE  MINISTRY  OF  ANGELS   272 

A  PRIVATE  PRAYER  TO  BE  USED  IN  DIFFICULT  TIMES.  317 

A  THANKSGIVING  FOR  OUR  LATE  WONDERFUL  DELI- 
VERANCE  820 

A  PRAYER  FOR  CHARITY,  PEACE  AND  UNITY,  TO  BE 

USED  IN  LENT   323 

A  PRAYER  FOR  HIS  MAJESTY'S  SUCCESS  IN  HIS  GREAT 

UNDERTAKING  FOR  IRELAND   326 

ARTICLES  TO  BE  INQUIRED  OF  THE  CHURCHWARDENS 

OF  THE  DIOCESE  OF  CHICHESTER   329 

A  LETTER  TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  CHICHESTER   337 

A  LETTER  TO  THE  CLERGY  OF  ELY   342 

FORM  OF  CONSECRATION  OF  THE  CHAPEL  OF  ST.  CATHA- 
RINE'S HALL,  CAMBRIDGE   349 

POEMS  UPON  DIVINE  AND  MORAL  SUBJECTS   359 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  AND  APPENDIX   405 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 
in  2014 


Iittps://arcliive.org/details/worksofsymonpatr01patr 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL  1. 


THE  EDITOR'S  PREFACE,  pp.  i— clviii. 


AQUA  GENITALIS; 

Or  a  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 

The  Preface,  Page  3. 

Nature  of  the  rite  or  ceremony,  p.  13. 

The  use  and  intention  of  Baptism,  p.  14. 

The  qualities  or  dispositions  of  those  that  receive  it,  p.  24. 

Who  are  persons  to  be  baptized,  p.  33. 

Infant-baptism  implied,  p.  34 

What  time  is  required  for  preparation,  p.  36. 

Uses  to  be  made  of  Baptism,  p.  39. 

Appendix,  on  the  importance  of  Confirmation,  p.  60. 


MENSA  MYSTICA; 

Or  a  Discov/rse  concerning  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

The  Introduction. — Showing,  i.  That  God  manifests  himself  to  our  sense. 
2.  That  bread  and  wine  are  fit  things  for  the  representing  our  Lord  to  us.  3.  The 
first  reason  of  the  celebration  of  this  Supper,  and  the  fittest  time  for  us  to  do 
this  that  Christ  commands  us.  4.  Wliich  is  but  a  reiteration  of  what  is  done 
in  Baptism.  5.  As  may  be  seen  by  what  I  have  briefly  writ  on  that  subject. 
6.  And  if  we  will  extend  this  thing  further,  we  may  lose  all.  The  papists  in 
danger  of  this,  who  speak  not  the  language  of  the  ancient  church.  7.  The  de- 
sign of  this  present  discourse.  8.  Tlie  alleging  of  some  heathen  customs  and 
princijjles  need  Ije  no  offence  to  any,  but  may  be  a  help  if  tliey  please,  p.  71. 

SECT.  I. 

The  Ivfroduction. 

Chap.  I. — The  first  end  of  this  holy  feast  was  for  a  remembrance  of  Christ. 


viii 


CONTENTS  OF 


What  it  is  to  remember  him.  Tlie  passover  appointed  for  a  memorial.  Two 
things  which  in  this  feast  we  commemorate.  And  our  commemoration  is  made 
two  ways  ;  to  men  and  to  God.  From  whence  we  may  infer  two  senses  in 
which  it  may  be  called  a  sacrifice,  p.  95. 

Chap.  II  It  is  a  remembrance  of  Christ  with  thanksgiving.    For  it  is  a 

feast.  The  Jewish  feasts  upon  their  sacrifices  a  pattern  of  it.  Especially  the 
paschal  supper,  in  which  they  sung  a  hymn.  Our  Saviour  gave  thanks  and 
blessed  when  he  instituted  this  feast.  And  his  disciples  kept  it  vnth  gladness 
of  heart.  And  all  churches  ever  since  have  celebrated  it  with  praises  and 
thanksgivings.  From  whence  it  is  evident  there  are  two  other  senses  in  which 
it  may  be  called  a  sacrifice,  p.  104. 

Chap.  III. — Tlie  third  end  of  this  feast  is  to  be  a  holy  rite  whereby  we 
enter  into  covenant  with  God.  For  God  hath  made  it  an  act  of  worship  whereby 
we  acknowledge  him  and  engage  ourselves  to  him.  As  we  eat  at  his  table, 
we  profess  ourselves  to  belong  to  his  family.  By  feasting  at  the  same  table 
covenants  were  anciently  made.    Especially  by  feasting  on  a  sacrifice. 

The  eating  of  this  sacrifice  is  a  solemn  oath  of  fidelity  to  him.  As  appear 
by  what  the  heathens  thought  of  the  devotions  of  the  ancient  Christians,  p.  118. 

Chap.  IV. — It  is  further  here  considered  as  a  sign  and  seal  of  remission  of  sin. 
Which  is  cleared  in  three  considerations.  First,  from  the  express  words  of 
our  Saviour  in  the  institution  of  this  sacrament.  Secondly,  from  the  solemn  act 
of  charity  and  forgiveness  which  here  we  are  bound  to  exercise.  But  especially 
(thirdly)  from  this,  that  we  eat  of  the  sin-offering,  and  of  that  which  was  not 
made  for  one,  but  for  many,  i.  e.  the  whole  congregation.  How  the  sacrament 
is  a  seal  of  the  covenant  of  grace.  And  what  assurance  may  be  attained  of  our 
being  pardoned,  p.  132. 

Chap.  V. — It  is  a  means  of  our  nearer  union  with  the  Lord  Je.sus.  The 
nature  of  this  union  and  its  effect  is  explained  in  five  considerations.  For  Christ 
communicates  his  body  and  blood  to  us.  We  are  kin  to  him  by  faith  and  love. 
And  receive  hereby  greater  measures  of  his  Spirit,  which  is  the  bond  of  union. 
And  an  earnest  and  pledge  of  a  happy  resurrection,  p.  143. 

Chap.  VI. — This  feast  is  a  means  also  of  our  union  one  with  another.  The 
very  eating  together  at  the  same  table  is  an  expression  of  kindness.  The  Pas- 
chal supper  was  a  feast  of  love.  This  holy  conmiunion  is  much  more  so.  Here 
we  all  eat  of  one  loaf.  The  holy  kiss  was  a  token  of  dear  affection,  which  was 
given  at  this  feast.  And  so  were  the  Af/apce,  or  feasts  of  charity.  And  the 
collections  then  made  for  the  poor.  And  sometimes  one  church  sent  a  loaf  to 
another  in  token  of  unity.  A  summary  of  these  six  chapters.  And  two  observa- 
tions from  the  whole,  p.  154. 

SECT.  II. 

Chap.  VII. — An  introduction  to  the  discourse  about  Preparation  to  the 
Lord's  table.  Wherein  those  words  of  the  Psalmist,  xciii.  5,  are  opened,  p.  1 78. 

Chap.  VIII.— This  word  PREPAEATION  is  to  be  understood  with  caution. 
Not  a  little  time  required  for  it.    A  holy  life  is  the  best  pre]>aration.    For  it 


THE  FIllST  VOLUME. 


ix 


ought  to  be  our  constant  employment  to  Jo  God's  will.  Which  consists  of  ac- 
tions of  diver.s  sorts.  Some  of  which  have  a  more  particular  respect  to 
God,  p.  1 80. 

Chap.  IX. — Four  things  more  are  treated  of,  which  open  further  the  nature  of 
this  preparation,  i .  Those  actions  which  respect  men  or  ourselves,  and  those  which 
immediately  respect  God,  are  mutual  preparations  each  to  other.  2.  Of  those 
holy  actions  which  respect  God,  some  are  necessary  and  others  voluntary. 
Where  there  is  a  discourse  concerning  praying  without  ceasing.  3.  One  act  of 
religion  is  preparative  to  another.  4.  And  there  are  some  other  preparations 
requisite  to  holy  duties,  besides  all  these.  By  the  mention  of  which,  way  is 
made  for  a  more  particular  discourse  concerning  them,  p.  186. 

Chap.  X. — Wliat  those  actions  are  wherein  it  is  fit  for  us  to  be  employed 
before  we  communicate.  Of  setting  apart  some  portion  of  our  time  which  is 
to  be  spent  in  consideration.  Particularly  how  God  hath  prospered  us  in  our 
estate.  Some  portion  of  which  is  to  be  laid  aside  for  an  oblation  to  him.  And 
as  we  are  to  think  of  giving,  so  of  forgiving.  In  order  to  which  the  duty  of  self- 
examination  is  opened  and  pressed.  The  whole  business  of  preparation  is  di- 
gested into  ten  considerations,  p.  197. 

Chap.  XI. — Some  mistakes  removed  about  preparation.  Tlie  primitive 
Christians  not  too  zealous.  The  fear  of  being  superstitious  makes  many  too 
irreligious.  No  reason  for  the  neglects  of  the  present  worldly  Christians.  They 
fear  to  do  that  which  God  commands,  when  they  fearlessly  do  that  which  he 
forbids.  Good  people  ought  to  be  cautious  lest  they  fall  into  superstition  while 
they  study  to  avoid  it,  p.  216. 

Chap.  XII. — Advices  and  directions  to  those  who  never  yet  received  the 
holy  communion.  How  they  are  to  prepare  and  dispose  themselves  by  ovraing 
and  ratifying  their  baptismal  covenant  ;  by  a  serious  search  into  every  part  of 
their  soul  and  into  their  lives,  by  approving  of  themselves  sincere,  &c.  The 
whole  comprehended  in  six  particulars,  which  are  distinctly  represented  for 
their  guidance  and  encouragement.  The  conclusion  of  this  part  about  prepa- 
ration, p.  224. 

SECT.  III. 

Concerninr/  the  deportment  of  a  SouJ  at  the  Holy  Table. 

Chap.  XIII. — Love  is  instead  of  all  other  directions.  Yet  seeing  it  hath  many 
ways  to  express  itself,  there  is  a  necessity  to  guide  its  motions  so  that  they  may 
not  hinder  each  other :  they  are  ranged,  therefore,  and  set  in  their  right  places 
in  the  next  chapter,  p.  234. 

Chap.  XIV. — When  we  have  welcomed  the  day  with  hearty  thanksgivings, 
how  we  are  to  raise  our  affections  to  the  several  parts  of  this  holy  action. 
More  particularly,  I .  What  we  are  to  do  when  we  see  God's  minister  stand  at 
the  holy  table.  2.  What  affections  are  to  be  expressed  when  we  see  the  bread 
broken  and  the  wine  poured  out.  3,  When  the  minister  coines  to  give  us  the 
bread.  4.  Wlien  we  take  it  into  our  hands.  5.  When  we  eat  it.  6.  When  we 
see  the  same  bread  given  to  others.    7.  When  we  receive  the  cup.    Upon  all 


X 


CONTENTS  OF 


whieli  occasions  several  seasonable  meditations  are  suggested.  And  then  (8.) 
meditations  of  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  (9.)  psalms  of  praise  and  thanksgiving, 
will  be  the  fittest  conclusions  of  the  solemnity,  p  237. 

SECT.  IV. 

The  Postco'.nium  ;  or,  of  mir  Deportment  aftervard. 

Chap.  XV. — An  entrance  upon  the  discourse  about  our  behaviour  afterward. 
Four  sorts  of  Christians  observed.  We  mu.st  strive  to  be  of  the  highest,  by 
striving  to  keep  those  good  affections  alive  whicli  are  begotten  in  us  at  this 
holy  feast,  p.  263. 

Chap.  XVI. — Eight  directions  for  the  maintaining  those  good  resolutions  that 
are  wrought  in  us,  and  preserving  our  hearts  in  a  constant  devout  temper.  The 
principal  are,  not  to  return  presently,  no,  not  to  our  other  honest  employments  ; 
and  to  have  Christ  crucified  often  in  our  mind  ;  and  to  long  for  such  another 
repast  ;  and  to  live  in  the  constant  exercise  of  charity  to  our  brethren,  p.  265. 

SECT.  V. 

The  Benefits  of  Holy  Commnnion. 

Chap.  XVII. — Pious  men  can  best  tell  how  sweet  this  feast  is  ;  yet,  for  the 
inviting  others  to  it,  a  discourse  is  begun  concerning  its  heavenlj' pleasures  and 
advantages,  p.  284. 

Chap.  XVIII. — ^Three  benefits  that  may  be  received  by  it.  i.  Much  plea- 
sure and  delight,  which  flows  from  several  springs.  2.  Much  strength  and 
\ngour,  as  is  proved  by  the  three  graces  of  faith,  hope,  and  charity.  3.  A  per- 
fect cure  of  our  sicknesises  and  diseases  :  it  being  medicine  as  well  as 
food,  p.  288. 

Chap.  XIX. — The  danger  of  coming  hither  unprepared  opened  in  seven  con- 
siderations ;  relating  partly  to  the  good,  partly  to  the  bad  ;  which  are  not  in- 
tended to  affright  men  from  coming,  but  to  move  them  to  come  advisedly  and 
with  well-prepared  souls  :  for  he  sins  that  stays  away,  as  well  as  he  that  comes 
unworthily.  Tlie  excuses  that  men  pretend  for  their  staying  away  shown  to 
be  frivolous,  p.  301. 

Chap.  XX. — Tlie  great  excuse  of  many  unmasked  ;  which  is,  that  wicked 
men  are  permitted  to  communicate.  In  which  is  shown  the  process  that  is  to 
be  used  before  we  refuse  to  communicate  with  those  that  are  bad.  The  con- 
clusion, p.  311. 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SACRIFICE; 

A  Treatise  shewing  tJm  Tiecessity,  end,  cmd  manner  of  receiring 
the  Holy  Communion. 

The  first  part  treats  briefly  of  the  obligations  we  have  to  coTiimuni- 
cate,  p.  329. 


THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


XI 


The  second  shows  the  ends  and  purposes  of  this  holy  action  ;  and  contains 
meditations  or  addresses  to  God  suitable  to  each,  p.  336. 

You  may  find  the  first  meditation,  p.  338  ;  the  second,  p.  34 1  ;  the  third, 
p.  347  ;  the  fourth,  p.  355  ;  the  fifth,  p.  359  ;  the  sixth,  p.  366  ;  the  seventh, 
p.  372  ;  the  last,  p.  379. 

Directions  for  the  use  of  them,  p.  381. 

A  more  compendious  form  of  devotion  after  receiving  the  bread,  p.  381. 

After  the  cup,  p.  383. 

A  shorter  form  than  those,  p.  385. 

The  third  part  shows  how  to  dispose  ourselves  to  receive  witli  prcjfit  and 
pleasure,  p.  387. 

Several  meditations  after  the  consecration  of  the  bread  and  wine,  and  whilst 
the  rest  of  the  company  is  receiving,  pp.  391-401. 
A  compendium  of  them,  p.  402. 
Directions  how  to  use  them,  p.  403. 

An  introduction  to  the  last  part  of  this  discourse,  p.  405. 

Wliich  contains  meditations  and  prayers  before  and  after  tlie  communion. 

For  January,  p.  41 1 .  For  February,  p.  421. 

For  March,  p.  431.  For  April,  p.  439. 

For  May,  p.  447.  For  June,  p.  455. 

For  July,  p.  464.  For  August,  p.  472. 

For  September,  p.  481.  For  October,  p.  489. 

For  November,  p.  497.  For  December,  p.  306. 

For  Christmas  day,  p.  515.  For  New-year's  day,  p.  525. 

For  Easter  day,  p.  531.  For  Ascension  day,  p  542. 

For  Whit  Sunday,  p.  552. 


A  dditional  Prayers. 

1.  A  prayer  for  humility,  p.  568. 

2.  A  prayer  for  charity,  p.  569. 

3.  A  prayer  for  meekness,  p.  571. 

4.  A  prayer  for  patience,  p.  573. 

5.  A  prayer  for  love  to  this  holy  communion,  p.  574. 

6.  A  prayer  for  faith  in  God,  p.  576. 

7.  A  prayer  for  resignation  to  God's  will,  and  perfect  contentment  of 
mind,  p.  577. 

8.  A  prayer  for  absolute  obedience  to  God,  p.  579. 

9.  A  prayer  for  a  heart  to  forgive  our  enemies,  p.  58 1. 
10.  A  prayer  for  brotherly  kindness,  p.  583. 

Fi.  A  prayer  for  courage  in  the  profession  of  Christianity,  p.  .i;84. 

12.  A  prayer  for  a  low  esteem  of  all  worldly  tliing.s,  p.  586. 


xii 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 


A  BOOK  FOR  BEGINNEKS; 

Or  an  Jielp  to   Young  Communicants. 

Chap.  I  Of  the  duty,  p.  592. 

II.  — Of  the  necessity  of  this  duty,  p.  593. 

III.  — Of  the  end.s  for  which  it  was  instituted,  p.  594. 

IV.  — Of  preparation  for  it,  p.  596. 

V.  — A  prayer  for  that  morning  when  you  intend  to  receive,  which 

may  be  used  any  time  before,  p.  599. 

VI.  — The  manner  of  receiving. 

VII  Meditations  and  prayers  afterwards,  p.  607. 

VIII.  — Directions  for  a  godly  life  suitable  to  this  holy  commu- 

nion, p.  610. 

IX.  — Touching  doubts  and  scruples,  p.  613. 

X.  — Directions  in  case  of  frequent  relapses  into  sin,  p.  615. 
XI  The  duties  of  children,  p.  617. 

XII.  — The  duties  of  servants,  p.  619.  * 

XIII.  — Advices  to  all  young  persons,  p.  621. 

XIV.  — Directions  about  them  that  cannot  read,  p.  623. 

XV.  Directions  to  those  that  can  read,  p.  625. 

XVI.  — A  necessary  qualification  to  receive  benefit  by  all  this,  p.  629. 

XVII.  A  short  prayer  for  the  morning,  p.  631. 
A  short  prayer  for  the  evening,  p.  63 1 . 

A  prayer  for  one  of  riper  years  before  the  receiving  of 

baptism,  p.  632. 
A  prayer  for  one  that  intends  to  be  confirmed,  p  633. 
A  prayer  after  confirmation,  p.  633. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


The  collected  works  of  a  scholar  and  di\'iue  second  in  reputa- 
tion in  his  own  day  to  few,  if  any,  of  his  contemporaries,  during  the 
latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century,  are  now  for  the  first  time 
presented  to  the  public.  Adequate  justice,  it  must  be  confessed, 
has  not  been  rendered  by  posterity  to  the  merits  of  one  who,  as  well 
by  his  voluminous  writings  as  by  the  ceaseless  energies  of  a  long 
life  hallowed  to  the  service  of  God  and  the  welfare  of  his  fellow- 
men,  exercised  so  considerable  an  influence  upon  his  generation  as 
Symon  Patrick.  As  a  paraphrast  and  commentator  upon  Holy 
Scripture  he  requires  indeed  no  eulogy.  His  wide  and  well  digested 
learning,  clear  judgment,  and  deep  religious  feeling  in  exposition  of 
the  inspired  text,  have  at  no  time  failed  to  secure  him  a  position  of  the 
highest  eminence  in  that  department.  Nor  is  it  probable  that  after- 
generations,  within  the  pale  at  least  of  the  Church  of  England,  will 
be  induced  to  withhold  from  his  careful  labours  in  that  sacred  field 
the  deference  by  prescription  due  to  their  value  as  a  portion  of  the 
classic  series  of  Anglican  hermeneutic  divinity ;  as  the  groundwork 
indeed  upon  which  later  exj^ositors  have  for  the  most  part  proceeded 
to  build.  By  his  earnest  and  high-toned  effusions  upon  devotional 
and  contemplative  subjects  his  name  has  been  equally  endeared  to 
many  a  generation  of  religious  readers.  Numbers  have  learnt  with 
gratitude  to  imbibe  from  his  simple  heartfelt  language  the  spirit  of 
prayer,  or  to  draw  from  his  sympathetic  promptings  the  springs 
of  consolation  and  hope  under  the  pressure  of  soitow,  temptation  or 
distress. 

Yet  familiar  and  revered  as  the  memory  of  this  pious  prelate  has 
ever  been  and  still  is  to  all  who  are  conversant  ^vith  his  Commenta- 
ries on  the  Old  Testament,  or  with  his  thoughtful  and  feeling  com- 
positions illustrative  of  the  chief  practical  aspects  of  the  Christian 
life;  the  large  mass  of  interesting  and  judicious  witings  wherewith 
he  continued  opportunely  from  time  to  time  to  meet,  the  religious 


xiv 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 


requirements  of  his  contemporaries,  and  to  effect  no  inconsiderable 
impression  upon  their  sentiments  and  conduct,  has  been  suffered  for 
the  most  part  to  drop  into  comparative  obscurity  or  desuetude. 

Highly  valued  and  %\'idely  spread  as  these  several  publications 
originally  were,  the  majority  have  long  since  become  so  rare,  if  not 
wholly  inaccessible  to  the  public,  as  to  have  been  deban-ed  from 
exercising  their  due  share  towards  keeping  alive  their  author's  re- 
putation. Nor  has  any  friendly  hand  been  stretched  forth  to  erect 
out  of  these  scattered  products  of  learned  and  pious  toil  a  monument 
such  as  in  many  a  less  deserving  instance  has  preferred  a  wTiter's 
name  to  adventitious  priority  in  literaiy  rank. 

There  can  be  no  more  fitting  or  durable  memoi'ial  of  the  merits  of 
one  who  in  his  generation  has  confen-ed  conspicuous  services  upon 
literature  and  religion,  than  that  which  is  embodied  in  his  collected 
wTitings.  Isolated  and  individual  productions,  be  they  never  so 
readily  accessible  to  the  reader,  can  afford  but  a  partial  and  inade- 
(piate  conception  of  his  capacity :  the  great  issue  of  his  prolific  brain 
and  pen  never  having  enjoyed  the  advantage  of  being  grouped  to- 
gether in  one  sjTnmetrical  edition.  If  indeed  all  celebrity  in  lettei^s 
may  be  said,  obeying  the  law  universally  inherent  in  the  creations 
of  man,  to  gi-avitate  towards  oblivion,  many  an  inferior  pretender 
has  at  least  been  retained  in  undue  repute  through  the  mere  enjoy- 
ment of  a  pri\-ilege,  the  absence  of  which  has  tended  to  relegate  many 
a  claimant  of  greater  intrinsic  merit  to  undeserved  obscurity. 

The  good  effected  by  the  labotfrs  of  the  most  able  and  conscientious 
mind  may  thus  go  long  imi'ecognized,  merely  because  few  authentic 
memorials  meet  the  eye,  exhibiting  the  man  as  he  illustrates  the  cur- 
rent of  events  by  his  mitings,  or  stamps  upon  the  age  by  direct 
pei*sonal  contact  the  impress  of  his  mind  and  character.  Much  as  per- 
sonal biogi'aphy  may  do  to  perpetuate  or  exalt  the  fame  of  a  wi-iter, 
without  full  or  ready  access  to  his  own  works  there  can  be  no  true 
criterion  of  his  powers,  or  ultimate  pledge  of  his  immortality. 

In  diseharwins:  the  task  of  collecting  and  organizing  these  remains 
of  an  honoured  author  for  presentment  to  the  readers  of  a  later 
generation,  the  editor  is  not  alone  encouraged  by  the  belief  that 
its  merited  tribute  is  at  length  paid  to  departed  worth.  There  is 
still  more,  he  is  convinced  by  grateful  experience,  a  mental  gain  to 
be  derived  from  renew^ed  comnumion  with  the  good  and  wise  of  bygone 
days,  in  which  neither  the  church  nor  the  public  can  well  fail  to 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


XV 


participate.  It  is  to  the  interest  of  every  age  to  reopen  the  means 
of  familiarity  with  those  sources  of  inteHcetual  and  spiritual  power, 
from  whence  its  existing  light  in  knowledge  and  \ni-tue  was  in  great 
measure  originally  drawn. 

If  the  question  be  put,  why  this  acknowledgement  of  undisputed 
worth  has  not  been  earlier  paid,  by  placing  among  the  standard  series 
of  volumes  which  bear  the  classic  names  of  Anglican  theology  the 
writings  of  SjTiion  Patrick one  excuse  at  least,  of  a  material  kind, 
w\\]  readily  suggest  itself,  in  the  length  to  which  the  present  series 
of  volumes  extends.  His  literary  style,  again,  grave,  devout  and 
erudite  as  it  is,  is  scarcely  to  be  termed  conspicuous  for  those  graces 
on  which  a  wide  and  permanent  popularity  most  commonly  rests. 
But  even  beyond  such  individual  grounds  of  disparagement  must  be 
taken  into  account  the  great  and  genei'al  reaction  which  has  set  in 
during  the  whole  intervening  period  against  the  i)rinciples  of  that 
school  of  which  Patrick  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  leading  representative. 
The  benefits  secured  to  this  country  by  the  great  civil  and  ecclesias- 
tical agitation  which  issued  in  the  final  expulsion  of  the  house  of  Stuart 
were  long  lost  sight  of,  in  regret  for  theories  which  in  the  general  ca- 
tastrophe had  suffered  disastrous  shipwi-eck,  as  well  as  in  sympathy 
for  the  individuals  who  (however  unworthy  the  cause)  sacrificed  their 
interests  to  their  convictions  \vith  the  zeal  and  fortitude  of  martyrs. 
Before  the  steady  current  of  dislike  engendered  from  this  source,  the 
reputation  of  all  those  who,  whether  in  literature  or  politics,  were  in- 
strumental in  {)roducing,  or  forward  in  welcoming,  the  deliverance  of 
1688,  has  demonstrably  undergone  unfair  depreciation.  Their  motives 
have  been  uncandidly  aspersed ;  their  conduct,  as  ostensible  gainers  by 
the  change,  has  been  invidiously  exposed  to  contrast  with  that  of  the 
suffering  and  expelled  nonjurors;  their  patriotism  decried  ;  their  per- 
sonal character  darkened  ;  the  moderation  of  their  faith  and  practice 
contrasted  unfavourably  with  the  obtrusive  and  indiscriminate  zeal  of 
their  rivals  ;  their  very  abilities  depreciated,  through  an  unwilling- 
ness to  concede  the  substantial  force  or  validity  of  the  conclusions 
which  they  were  devoted  to  uphold.  The  time  may  not  even  yet  be 
come  for  a  fair  and  impartial  judgment  to  be  passed  upon  the  chief 
actors  iu  that  memorable  crisis.  So  lingering  are  the  prejudices 
which  date  from  political  antagonism,  so  permanent  the  impressions 
which  are  bound  up  with  the  associations  and  .symbols  of  religious 
partizanship. 


XVI 


!:ditors  preface. 


The  spirit  of  party,  whether  in  politics  or  religion,  never  fails  to 
do  its  utmost  to  disparage  the  powers  and  depreciate  the  achieve- 
ments of  an  opponent.  But  if  such  he  the  fiite  to  which  men  are 
exposed  at  either  extremity  of  the  political  or  ecclesiastical  scale, 
much  more  does  it  befall  those  men  of  moderate  views  and  single 
devotion  to  truth,  who  shrink  from  either  extreme  alike,  not  on  any 
weak  or  selfish  calculation  of  a  safe  via  media,  but  upon  the  stand- 
ing point  of  a  conviction  higher  than  the  conventional  limits  of 
party  :  while  they  seek  to  mitigate  the  bitterness  of  each,  and  bring 
them  to  approximate  towards  the  absolute  truth,  which  in  the  plu- 
rality of  instances  really  lies  between  them,  and  of  which  they  both 
in  some  degi-ee  partake.  To  the  twofold  hostility  thus  provoked  at 
the  hands  of  these  combined  antagonists  is  as  surely  superadded  the 
imputation  of  indifference  and  disregard  to  truth.  Liberality  and 
the  love  of  peace  are  then  construed  as  mere  lukewarmness  or 
apathy.  Thus  have  the  endeavours  of  the  most  single  and  earnest 
minds  after  a  loftier  and  more  catholic  unity,  through  blending  the 
minor  shades  of  human  difference  under  the  broad  outlines  of 
Christian  belief,  been  denounced  as  if  studiously  calculated  to  merge 
every  essential  distinction  between  truth  and  error. 

Under  adverse  influences  such  as  these  can  it  be  thought  strange 
that  the  character  of  any  one  among  the  leading  agents  or  promoters 
of  the  characteristic  movement  of  the  seventeenth  century  should 
have  been  estimated  below  its  real  deserts  1  Even  now  that  the 
great  principles  which  they  ventured  in  advance  of  their  age  to  pro- 
mulgate have  at  length  been  solidly  established, — that  tolerance  and 
respect  for  the  rights  of  conscience  have  acquired  the  force  of  reli- 
gious sanction,  while  the  great  principles  of  the  reformation  have 
been  consummated  by  the  gradual  enfranchisement  of  the  intellect, 
and  Christian  faith  enlarged  by  the  spread  of  fi-ee  institutions  in 
religion, — a  candid  recognition  may  still  remain  to  be  taken  of  the 
services  rendered  by  those  guides  and  benefactors  of  the  community, 
who  were  the  first  to  afford  effectual  proof  that  unfettered  reason 
was  compatible  with  sound  belief,  civil  freedom  with  legal  order,  and 
even  differences  of  creed  with  the  highest  tone  of  religious  and  social 
virtue,  not  less  than  %vith  mutual  peace  and  the  absence  of  animosity. 

Society  to  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century  was  throughout  in 
a  state  of  constant  fimdamental  change,  the  sequel  and  inevitable  de- 
velopment of  the  great  religious  emancipation  of  the  sixteenth.  Not 


KDlTOIi'S  PREFACE. 


XVII 


that  the  tide  of  opinion  set  uniformly  fi-oni  tlie  first  in  one  definite 
current.  It  was  marked  on  the  contrary  by  the  widest  oscillations  of 
ebb  and  flow.  The  great  ideas  set  in  motion  in  the  preceding  age  were 
working  out  for  themselves  their  respective  channels,  and  manifesting 
their  inherent  tendencies;  issuing  indeed  in  a  nearer  assimilation 
in  the  end  to  each  other,  but  only  after  each  party  had  enjoyed  its 
brief  period  of  almost  undisputed  ascendency,  and  given  way  in  turn 
to  its  expectant  and  subversive  rival.  About  the  middle  of  the  cen- 
tury, however,  the  current  began  to  settle  into  its  definite  and  steady 
onflow,  and  the  mind  of  the  age  to  show  signs  of  its  becoming  con- 
scious, so  to  say,  of  the  fundamental  idea  which  deeply  underlay  its 
secret  yearnings  and  aspirations.  That  idea  was  Toleration,  the  ex- 
pression of  a  new  sense  of  unity,  a  craving  after  peace  and  brother- 
hood, on  the  basis  not  of  exclusiveness  but  of  comprehension :  an  idea 
which,  long  cherished  by  higher  minds,  was  only  to  be  realised  at  large 
as  the  meeting  point  of  hostile  beliefs,  when  the  forces  of  antagonism 
were  spent : — only  rose  into  appreciation  as  the  single  bright  spot  of 
refuge  from  the  storms  of  wasting,  hopeless,  irreconcilable  strife. 

It  is  chiefly  as  connected  by  anticipation  with  the  broad  and  com- 
prehensive movement  thus  shadowed  out,  as  having  been  one  of  the 
first  to  imbibe  its  spirit,  and  by  his  after-life  and  influence  to  con- 
firm and  diffuse  its  principles  within  the  church  of  which  he  was  an 
ornament,  that  the  wi'iter  before  us  possesses  a  claim  to  our  interest 
and  attention.  His  history  is  that  of  a  school.  He  can  never  be 
understood  apart  fi-om  those  ideas  of  progress  which  were  embodied  in 
definite  form  by  the  Latitudinai'ians  or  Latitude-men  of  Cambridge. 
Of  all  the  great  divines  of  the  second  season  of  the  reformation 
there  is  none  whose  life  and  wi'itings  offer  a  more  fitting  opportunity 
for  studying  minutely  the  interior  principles  by  which  the  mind  of 
the  English  nation  was  then  being  moulded  to  its  subsecjuent  and 
abiding  type,  with  more  especial  reference  to  that  moral  and  religious 
training  on  which  every  real  advance  in  civilization  must  ever  rest. 

With  the  view  of  assigning  to  the  following  volumes  the  signifi- 
cance which  of  right  belongs  to  them,  and  defining  the  place  which 
they  should  appropriately  occupy  in  theological  literature,  some  pre- 
liminary consideration  is  required  of  the  source  from  whence  they 
emanated ;  in  other  words,  of  the  special  influences  under  which  their 
author's  mind  was  formed.  The  neces.sary  clue  will  be  sought  in  a  brief 
survey  and  analysis  of  the  principles  of  the  Latitudinarian  school  as  it 


xvm 


EUITOKS  PREFACE. 


stands  related  to  the  general  history  of  contemporary  opinion,  under 
the  three  primary  aspects  of  Philosophy,  Politics,  and  lleligion. 

I.  It  was  only  after  a  process  of  discipline  unexampled  in  severity 
during  the  entire  course  of  its  domestic  annals,  after  each  section  of 
opinion  in  turn  had  undergone  the  extremity  of  suffering,  after  the 
most  cherished  traditions  had  been  rudely  shaken,  and  the  most 
vigorous  institutions  overthrown,  that  the  nation  at  large  was 
taught  to  appreciate  those  large  princijiles  of  tolerance  and  reci- 
procal charity,  which  might  have  been  educed  independently,  and  at 
an  earlier  period,  fi'om  a  deeper  insight  into  the  time  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  as  they  were  destined  ultimately  to  be  adopted,  as  the  pro- 
fession at  least  of  every  party,  political  or  ecclesiastical,  in  the  com- 
munity. A  few  superior  minds  alone  were  capable  of  grasping  and 
enunciating  these  compi-ehensive  ideas,  in  anticipation  of  the  experi- 
mental development  and  painful  training  of  events  ;  and  of  thus 
marking  out  in  advance  that  track  in  which  society  continued  to 
move  by  progressive  stages  towards  a  more  solid  and  consummate 
civilization  ;  until  at  length  the  spirit  of  the  age  grew  up  to  the 
standard  which  they  had  in  idea  long  antecedently  assigned  to  it. 
Dating  fi'om  a  point  of  social  and  national  crisis,  when  the  civil  con- 
stitution of  the  kingdom  lay  radically  overthrown,  and  its  religious 
unity  seemed  iiTctrievably  shattered  by  the  multitudinous  forms  of 
dissent  which  had  supplanted  the  national  church,  the  conception  of 
a  new  union  or  regeneration  of  society,  through  a  recurrence  to  first 
principles,  and  on  mainly  abstract  or  philosophical  gi'ounds,  began 
just  before  the  middle  of  the  century  to  stir  and  extend  itself  within 
the  intellectual  circle  of  the  universities,  where  the  current  of 
thought  and  contemplation  ran  on  with  less  disturbance  from  the 
storms  of  civil  discord. 

Driven  by  the  aspect  of  affairs,  no  less  than  by  a  profound  study  of 
human  nature,  to  abandon  as  impracticable  and  illusory  the  vision  of 
religious  or  social  pacification  on  the  basis  of  dogmatic  uniformity,  a 
few  thoughtful  men  were  led  by  the  philosophic  instinct  of  abstract 
order,  in  aid  of  the  Christian  sentiment  of  peace  and  harmony,  to  the 
conception  of  a  new  catholicity  to  be  defined  by  comprehension.  Not 
that  they  perhaps  clearly  or  consciously  as  yet  proposed  to  them- 
selves any  universal  scheme  of  religious  and  ci\dl  organization. 
Catholicity  was  with  them  ratlier  an  instinct  than  a  theory.  Far 


KDITOirs  iM{EKA(!p:. 


XIX 


from  committing  themselves  with  unpractical  prcciiiitation  to  wliat 
must  long  have  remained  a  remote  and  transcendental  hypothesis, 
their  energies  were  less  directed  towards  propounding  any  definite 
ideal  scheme  of  doctrine,  than  to  securing  the  ground  for  those  fun- 
damental principles  which,  left  to  their  own  free  expansion,  might 
with  safety  be  tiusted  to  develope  in  the  end  their  legitimate 
practical  results. 

Throughout  the  critical  changes  which  in  the  course  of  the  last 
two  centuries  have  passed  over  the  English  church  and  nation, — 
changes  which  cannot  fail  to  make  themselves  felt  down  to  the  latest 
development  of  our  civil  and  ecclesiastical  polity,  and  must  be  i-e- 
garded  as  the  mainspring  or  primary  turning-point  oi  modern 
English  life,  mannei-s,  and  convictions, — the  key-note  of  continuity  has 
been  that  struck  at  the  outset  by  the  originators  of  that  remarkable 
movement  within  the  church,  which  received  as  a  stigma  of  suspicion 
or  reproach  the  epithet  of  Latitudinarian.  The  history  of  that  bril- 
liant and  suggestive  school  of  thought  (which  has  to  the  present  day 
been  most  inadequately  delineated)  forms,  in  fact,  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  instructive  episodes  in  the  annals  of  intellectual  pro- 
gress or  general  civilization  in  these  kingdoms.  In  a  purely  specu- 
lative point  of  view  it  is  coincident  with  the  history  of  the  Platonic 
revival  in  English  literature.  The  affinity  between  the  genius  of 
Platonism  and  that  of  Christianity  is  no  new  oi-  anomalous  pheno- 
menon in  the  spiritual  growth  of  the  human  mind.  The  spirit  of  the 
Greek  academy  had,  ere  it  expired  fifteen  centuries  before,  in  its 
latest  phase  of  Alexandrian  theosophy,  passed  into  the  church 
through  the  minds  of  her  ablest  fathers.  The  mental  discipline  and 
profound  leaniing  of  Oriental  Hellenism  contributed  to  mould  the 
distinctive  facts  and  doctrines  of  revelation  into  the  dogmatic  or- 
ganism of  Christian  theology,  and  to  inform  with  a  scientific  soul  the 
living  and  energetic  body  of  Christian  belief.  The  same  intellectual 
influence  was  now  once  more  evoked  to  regulate  the  final  stage  of 
transition  from  ancient  to  modern  philosophy,  from  the  age  of 
authority  to  that  of  evidence,  from  the  sterile  and  effete  Aristotelism 
of  the  mediaeval  schools  to  the  new  era  of  experimental  investigation, 
inaugurated  in  this  countiy  by  the  genius  of  Bacon. 

But  the  scope  or  i)ur])ose  of  this  new  and  latest  impulse  towards 
Platonic  culture  was  hy  no  means  limited  to  that  of  abstract  specu- 
lation.   Essentially  of  the  widest  and  most  catholic  type,  and  con- 

b  2 


EDITOR\S  PREFACE. 


necting  itself  immediately  with  the  realities  of  ethical  and  political 
truth,  it  aimed  at  blending,  on  grounds  more  strictly  eclectic  than 
dogmatic,  the  elevating  aims  and  spiritualizing  design  of  academic 
idealism,  with  the  experimental  method  and  utilitarian  application  of 
the  realistic  scheme,  first  reduced  by  Bacon  to  the  consistence  of  a 
system. 

It  was  not  till  after  the  death  of  Bacon  that  the  effects  of  the  vast 
revolution  wi'ought  by  his  instrumentality  in  the  realms  of  philoso- 
phical culture  began  to  be  generally  manifest  in  English  education. 
For  the  first  quarter  of  that  century,  the  prevailing  current  of 
thought  and  study  at  both  universities,  since  the  decay  of  the  scho- 
lastic system,  had  continued  to  run  in  the  direction  of  dogmatic 
ideality,  as  finally  perfected  by  Descartes  and  his  disciple  Rohault. 

A  thorough  and  lasting  change  then  ensued  in  the  whole  course 
of  academical  pursuits.  At  Oxford  the  adhesion  to  the  principles  of 
what  was  termed  "  the  new  philosophy"  was  the  most  conspicuous, 
immediate  and  general.  But  in  his  ovm  miiversity  the  bold  and 
promising  appeal  of  Bacon  to  the  study  of  nature  found  an  eager  re- 
sponse in  a  number  of  gifted  and  energetic  disciples ;  foremost  among 
whom  may  be  enumerated  the  names  of  Isaac  Barrow,  the  predeces- 
sor of  the  greater  Newton,  of  Whichcote  and  Cudworth,  active  heads 
of  colleges,  of  Worthington,  Wilkins,  and  Rust,  and  of  John  Bay,  the 
founder  of  natm-al  history  in  England.  The  first  intellects  of  the  day 
were  at  once  enlisted  in  favour  of  that  naturalistic  impulse,  which  has 
proved  itself  the  seminal  idea  of  all  subsequent  scientific  progi'ess 

A  contingency,  however,  which  experience  has  since  proved  to  be 
by  no  means  wholly  imaginary,  was  not  slow  in  rousing  the  apprehen- 
sions of  some  among  the  warmest  adherents  of  the  new  philosophy. 

Basing  his  system  exclusively  upon  physical  experimentation,  and 
discarding  all  other  modes  of  cognition  or  avenues  of  truth  for  the 
single  use  of  the  inductive  method,  Bacon  had  consistently  placed 
the  united  pro\4nces  of  ethics  and  theology  beyond  the  pale  of  his 
new  unity  of  the  sciences.  He  appears  to  have  held  his  own  creed 
by  an  effort  of  the  will,  or  as  a  legacy  fi-om  the  past,  rather  than  as 
the  result  of  conscious  conviction  and  the  crowning  triumph  of  the 
intellect.    In  the  antithesis  thus  authoritatively  proclaimed  between 

a  Patrick's  writings  bear  frequent  witness  to  his  familiarity  with  the  -works, 
and  admiration  for  the  genius  of  Bacon.  Few  authors  of  the  English  school 
are  more  frequently  refeiTed  to  in  the  following  volumes. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


XXI 


reason  and  faith,  religion  and  philosojjhy,  lay  tlie  germ  of  that  mate- 
rialistic tendency  wliich  has  since  threatened  at  times  the  Christian 
allegiance  of  the  scientific  spirit,  and  led  to  the  negation  of  all  spi- 
ritual or  supersensual  truth  on  the  part  of  whole  classes  of  its  profes- 
sors, who  are  proud  of  vindicating  their  affinity,  by  legitimate  descent, 
with  the  parent  stock  of  Verulamian  realism 

At  this  critical  juncture  in  the  destinies  of  philosophy,  when  the 
newly-opened  field  of  naturalistic  science  was  impelling  the  most 
acute  and  active  intellects  in  the  direction  of  material  discovery,  and 
its  greatest  master  had  set  the  example  of  eliminating  from  its  scope 
all  direct  recognition  of  the  facts  of  ethics  or  theology  as  such,  a 
service  of  inestimable  value  was  rendered  at  once  to  sound  phi- 
losophy and  true  religion,  by  the  infusion  of  an  active  element  of 
Platonic  theism.  Distinguished  no  less  by  their  ardour  in  the  inves- 
tigation of  natui-e,  or  of  the  mathematical  and  exact  sciences,  than 
by  their  profound  classical  scholarship,  and  their  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  metaphysical  and  theological  learning  of  antiquity,  the 
Platonic  revivalists  at  Cambridge  found  themselves  in  a  position 
to  modalize  the  incipient  tendencies  to  materialism  introduced  by 
Bacon,  and  transmitted  by  him  to  all  later  phases  of  sensational 
philosophy,  by  the  more  ideal  temper  and  more  abstract  method  of 
the  most  spiritual  school  of  Greece. 

A  sufficiently  comprehensive  gi-ound  was  thus  obtained  for  once 
more  incorporating  within  the  pale  of  scientific  reference  the  ideas  of 
the  absolute  and  infinite,  together  with  those  which  have  since  been 
classified  under  the  heads  of  teleology  and  ontology;  ideas  which  can 
in  strict  logical  illation  culminate  only  in  Christian  theism.  Pushing 
its  keen  analysis  into  the  depths  both  of  psychical  and  physical  phe- 
nomena, English  Platonism  found  a  key  to  the  joint  secrets  of  spirit 
and  matter,  a  link  between  the  divine  and  human  minds;  whilst  it 
vindicated  the  spirit  of  religion  from  the  reproach  of  intellectual  ste- 
rility, by  consummating  its  union  with  the  spirit  of  science.  Blending 
the  purely  ideal  method  of  the  Hellenic,  with  the  practical  fidelity  to 
fact  characteristic  of  the  Baconian  system,  it  presented  as  logical  in- 

For  the  links  of  parental  relation  between  the  reali.sm  of  Bacon  and  the 
latest  phases  of  materialistic  and  atlieistic  speculation,  the  reader  is  referred  to 
the  .able  monograph  of  Dr.  Kuno  Fischer,  Franz  Baco  von  Verulam,  &c.,  recently 
translated  by  Mr.  Oxenford,  and  M.  de  E^musat's  clear  and  polished  cssjiv, 
Bacon,  soil  temps,  so,  ric  el  s«  jihilosophie,  jusrju'n  nos  jours,  8vo.  I'aris,  1857. 


xxii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


struments  of  investigation  the  a  priori  method  of  deductive  reasoning 
perfected  in  the  syllogistic  formulas  of  the  schoolmen,  in  combina- 
tion with,  and  supplemented  by  the  inventive  process  of  induction 
successfully  employed  by  Plato,  and  adopted  from  him  by  Bacon  as 
the  key  to  the  prospective  discoveries  of  science.  Through  the 
former  or  transcendental  process  were  obtained  the  means  of  con- 
tact with  the  world  of  ideas  or  spiritual  reality,  no  less  than  through 
the  latter  or  descendcntal  with  that  of  physical  facts  or  sensible 
phenomena.  The  intellect,  under  this  more  comprehensive  organon 
of  knowledge,  was  thus  maintained  in  equilibrium  between  two  op- 
posite tendencies  to  error.  The  first  of  these  lay  in  that  exclusive 
dependence  on  ideal  or  deductive  ratiocination,  which  must  have 
continued  to  lead  either  to  a  sterile  dogmatism,  or  to  an  exagger- 
ated and  unphilosophic  use  of  the  dialectic  and  imaginative  powers. 
The  second  was  to  be  feared  from  unrestricted  reliance  upon  in- 
ductive experimentation,  and  the  accumulation  of  isolated  facts ;  con- 
ducing, as  it  must,  in  turn,  to  a  narrow  and  grovelling  empiricism,  or 
to  the  negation  of  all  certainty  beyond  the  limits  of  the  senses.  In 
the  distinctive  tone  imparted  by  the  Platonistic  method  of  reasoning 
to  the  technical  character  of  English  thought,  may  be  discerned 
already  the  first  outlines  of  that  saving  reaction  by  which  the  scien- 
tific spirit  in  this  country  has  been  rescued  as  a  whole  from  de- 
scending into  the  abyss  of  unbelief,  materialistic,  necessitarian,  and 
atheistic,  towards  which  Hobbes  already  led  the  way,  followed  rapidly 
by  Bayle  and  the  Encyclopsedists,  and  into  which  Positivism  has  finally 
been  plunged  under  the  more  recent  leadership  of  Comte. 

II.  No  less  opportune  or  salutary  was  the  attitude  assumed  by  the 
leading  minds  of  the  same  educational  movement  in  the  face  of  the 
gi'ave  political  changes,  which  during  that  revolutionary  epoch  con- 
tinued without  cessation  to  agitate  society.  Their  opinions  were 
formed  at  a  time  when  the  civil  condition  of  the  countiy  was  one  of 
unexampled  confusion.  The  monarchy  had  just  succumbed  to  the 
iiTesistible  outburst  of  popular  force,  after  a  bold  but  ineffectual 
struggle  on  the  part  of  the  crown  for  the  reinstatement  of  its  earlier 
prerogatives.  The  theory  of  the  hereditary  irresponsible  authority  of 
the  sovereign,  resting  upon  divine  sanctions,  identified  as  it  was  with 
the  dynasty  of  the  Stuarts,  had  received  its  first  deadly  blow  at  the 
hands  of  the  commonalty.  On  the  other  hand,  ;i  liricf  but  calainitous 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


XXlll 


experience  had  sufficiently  taught  the  uufituess  of  re})ublicau  institu- 
tions to  the  temper  of  the  nation,  not  less  than  the  evils  of  a  state 
of  anarchy,  or  of  the  scarcely  less  galling  yoke  of  irresponsible  mili- 
tary despotism. 

The  external  juncture  of  affairs  seemed  of  itself  to  call  for  a  some- 
what eclectic  rather  than  a  dogmatic  view  of  future  settlement.  It 
was  ripe  for  the  dissemination  of  those  enlarged  views  by  which  so 
many  conflicting  forces  might  be  balanced,  as  well  as  of  that  mode- 
rate and  conciliatory  temper  in  civil  controversy,  which  was  to  be 
expected  in  minds  deeply  imbued  with  the  critical  study  of  the 
past,  and  philosophically  observant  of  the  phenomena  and  the  laws 
of  social  action.  The  familiarity  of  the  Latitudinarians  with  the 
varied  and  complex  political  organizations  of  early  Greece,  joined  to 
the  speculative  creations  of  the  classic  idealists,  and  the  scientific  for- 
mulas of  Koman  jm-isprudence,  preeminently  fitted  them  for  the  task 
of  political  reconstruction.  Their  judgment  and  temper,  trained  in  the 
severe  discipline  of  exact  philosophy,  and  raised  to  an  intellectual 
elevation  above  the  passions  and  prejudices  of  the  multitude,  cpiali- 
fied  them  to  look  beneath  the  surface,  and  to  read  the  signs  of  the 
times  with  something  of  prophetic  insight  into  the  exigencies  and 
the  conditions  of  the  coming  sei'a  of  society.  As  di^anes  and  men 
of  sedentary  thought  they  were  called  upon  to  take  a  less  promi- 
nent part  than  others  in  the  active  struggles  of  the  civil  war  or  the 
revolution.  But  so  far  as  their  sacred  calling  permitted  none  are 
found  more  uniformly  conspicuous,  especially  among  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal orders,  in  embracing  those  measures  of  pacification  which  gra- 
dually restored  the  balance  of  the  popular  and  imperial  interests  in 
the  state,  or  in  promoting  that  last  constitutional  straggle  by  which, 
wth  scarcely  an  appeal  to  force,  the  supremacy  of  the  sovereign 
was  adjusted  to  the  freedom  of  the  subject,  by  the  final  settlement 
of  1688. 

In  the  more  esoteric  field  of  political  literature,  in  which  not 
action,  but  thought,  is  the  motive  and  guiding  power,  the  same  in- 
tellectual influences  bore  their  most  appropriate  results.  The  sub- 
versive paradoxes  of  the  atomistic  or  selfish  school  in  politics,  re- 
presented by  Hobbes,  together  with  the  nobler  but  not  less  visionary 
model  of  the  republican  partj^,  headed  by  Milton,  may  Ik;  taken  to 
embody  the  princii)al  forms  of  opposition,  which,  springing  out  of 
the  new  or  Baconian  system  of  opinions,  threatened  on  the  side  of 


XXIV 


EUITOK'S  PKEFACE. 


innovation  to  modify  or  to  supersede  the  prescriptive  constitution  of 
the  realm.    An  opposite  tendency,  more  strictly  reactionary  in  cha- 
racter, was  exerted  towards  the  assertion  of  indefeasible  right  in  the 
sovereign,  and  passive  obedience  on  the  part  of  the  subject ;  an  al- 
ternative supported  to  the  end  by  the  highest  section  of  churchmen, 
Thorndike,  Filmer,  L'Estrange,  and  the  non-jurors,  and  by  the  ultra- 
montane paiiizans  of  Rome  ;  to  the  latter  of  whom  the  extinction  of 
the  popular  liberties  held  out  no  delusive  promise  of  once  more 
subordinating  the  kingdom,  through  its  sovereign,  to  the  rule  of  the 
papacy.    To  fi-ame  a  theory  in  which  the  fundamental  institutions 
of  the  country  should  be  maintained  in  conformity  with  the  genuine 
English  tradition, — a  theory  neither  absolutist  nor  republican,  resting 
neither  on  material  force  nor  on  unreasoning  superstition. — equally 
removed  fi-om  the  pretence  of  theocratic  despotism,  and  the  dreams 
of  socialist  democracy, — yet  embracing  the  vital  ideas  of  which  each  of 
those  extreme  notions  was  an  abnormal  and  perverted  form, — ^was  a 
problem  in  political  calculation,  such  as  required  not  only  a  far  higher 
and  more  comprehensive  standing  point,  but  a  platform  of  gi-eater 
breadth  and  solidity  than  had  previously  been  secm*ed  by  any  school 
of  English  statesmanship.    Such  a  solution  was  pro\-ided  in  the  broad 
and  deeply  reasoned  premises  laid  doAvn  by  thinkers  of  the  Latitu- 
dinarian  type.     The  gi-ound  which  they  took  up  seems  to  have 
approached  most  nearly  to  that  shortly  afterwards  adopted  by  the 
moderate  or  philosophical  section  of  the  early  WTiig  party.  Their 
axioms  of  polity  tended  closely  to  that  mixed  or  constitutional  form, 
in  accordance  yvith  which  the  relations  between  sovereign  and  people 
have  since  been  more  jjractically  defined  through  the  influence  of  events 
and  the  progi-ess  of  legislation.    Loyalists  at  heart,  their  regalism 
was  leavened  by  liberal  philosophy.   Then-  eclectic  turn  of  reasoning 
seems  to  have  led  them  to  anticipate  in  its  general  form  the  modern 
theory  of  correlative  forces  in  the  state,  held  in  check  by  the  sense 
of  reciprocal  obligation,  and  united  by  the  bond  of  an  identifica- 
tion of  interests*^.    In  their  witings  were  propounded,  nearly  a 
generation  in  advance,  those  principles  of  constitutional  law  and 
jurisprudence,  whereby,  mainly  under  the  auspices  of  their  pupils  in 

Such  were  in  effect  the  grounds  on  which  Cudworth,  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal writers  and  reputed  founders  of  the  Platonic  or  latitudinarian  school,  en- 
countered the  arguments  of  the  Leviathan  respecting  the  grounds  of  social 
and  political  order,  in  the  concluding  chapter  of  his  "  Intellectual  system.'" 


EDITOR'S  PRFFACE. 


XXV 


church  and  state,  the  crisis  of  1688  was  permanently  adjusted.  The 
conduct  of  men  like  Patrick  may  on  a  shallow  or  jealous  view  have 
been  attributed  to  ignoble  motives  of  self-interest  fl.  But  it  was  the 
result  of  long  and  deep  con\-iction,  upheld  amid  no  little  peril.  It 
was  consistent  in  them  to  welcome  a  policy  which,  regulating  at 
once  the  prerogative  of  the  crown  and  the  immunities  of  the  sub- 
ject, and  reconciling  in  perpetuity  civil  freedom  with  regal  authority, 
could  enlist  the  spontaneous  sympathies  and  energies  of  the  nation 
in  support  of  public  order  and  the  supremacy  of  the  legislature. 

III.  A  striking  change  in  the  method  and  spirit  of  religious  contro- 
versy is  traceable  fi-om  about  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
The  points  in  agitation  are  from  that  time  seen  to  concern  not  so 
much  specific  articles  of  faith,  the  Creeds,  or  the  dogmatic  teaching  of 
the  church,  as  the  primary  grounds  of  all  religion,  or  the  fundamental 
constitution  of  the  church  itself  in  scripture  and  reason.  The  basis  of 
discussion  is  gi-adually  refeiTed  back  to  that  of  first  principles,  at 
the  same  time  that  the  mode  of  arbitration  is  narrowed  and  sim- 
plified. A  less  dogmatic  and  more  argumentative  tone  is  obsei-ved 
to  prevail.  More  habitual  reference  is  made  to  external  proof,  and 
greater  scope  and  power  entrusted  to  the  individual  judgment.  It 
was  felt  that  the  time  was  going  Vjy  when  the  belief  and  convictions 
of  men  could  be  determined  by  the  lessons  of  their  childhood,  or 
overruled  and  suspended  by  an  act  of  their  ovra  will,  in  deference  to 
the  teaching  of  their  professional  guides,  or  of  any  human  canon  of 
authority.  No  mere  appeal  to  the  prescriptive  rule  of  the  church, 
or  of  the  first  ages,  could  satisfy  the  gr'owing  independence  of 
modern  thought.  The  Christian  fathers  and  councils  ceasing  to  be 
refeiTcd  to  as  ultimate  authorities,  but  being  examined  as  witnesses 
to  fact,  or  materials  for  forming  individual  conviction,  the  study 
of  the  patristic  writings  began  even  unduly  to  decline.  Polemical 
treatises  became  less  replete  with  primitive  and  medieval  precedents, 
but  developed  greater  skill  and  energy  in  argument.  The  dialectic 
subtleties  and  transcendental  hypotheses  of  the  schoolmen  were 
finally  discarded,  and  the  solution  of  controverted  problems  sought 
through  a  more  direct  and  single  reference  to  the  text  of  Scrip- 

"1  This  charge  is  insinuated  against  Patrick  by  name,  together  witli  Tillotson 
and  Burnet,  in  a  Jacobite  libel,  An  Epitaph  on  Pas.sive  Obedience,  1688.  (MS. 
Cole,  582^.  fol.  fir.  in  Brit.  M\is.)    Compare  Swift's  note  on  Burnet,  i.  ^16. 


XXVI 


EDITOirS  PREFACE. 


ture  and  the  laws  of  logical  j^roof.  Thus  the  question  raised  being 
one  of  first  principles,  or  relating  to  the  primai-y  seat  of  truth, 
the  power  of  arbitration  had  been  transferred  fi-om  the  conscience 
to  the  reason.  The  age  of  authority  had  given  way  to  the  age 
of  evidence. 

So  great  a  change  in  the  grounds  and  tenure  of  religious  belief 
could  not  be  expected  to  pass  without  giving  rise  to  embarrassments 
and  even  dangers  of  its  own.  Within  the  pale  of  Christian  profes- 
sion a  nmltiplicity  of  sects  as  endless  in  the  variety  as  unbounded 
in  the  extravagance  of  their  tenets,  seemed  to  render  nugatory  every 
attempt  at  bringing  back  the  nation  at  large  to  any  single  denomina- 
tion of  Christian  faitli.  But  a  still  graver  peril  awaited  Christianity 
in  the  growth  of  a  new  body  of  cultivated  opinion  external  to 
itself,  and  openly  inimical  to  its  existence.  A  firm  and  immediate 
stand  had  to  be  made  against  those  perverted  views  of  the  newly 
opened  aspects  of  nature,  which  under  the  tutelage  of  Hobbes  were 
already  being  made  the  foundation  of  a  definite  antagonism  to  the 
whole  spirit  of  religion.  The  germ  was  implanted  in  the  mind  of 
the  age  of  that  school  of  scientific  unbelief  which  in  succeeding  gene- 
rations, under  the  auspices  of  Bayle,  Shaftesbury,  Bolingbroke,  and 
Hume,  assumed  the  organization  of  a  philosophic  league  for  the 
downfall  of  Christianity,  and  called  forth  as  a  counteracting  influ- 
ence the  talents  and  energies  of  a  long  line  of  Christian  apologists. 

For  the  vindication  of  revealed  truth  against  the  assaults  of  scien- 
tific infidelity  there  was  obviously  needed  an  equally  high  and  exact 
scientific  culture,  if  only  to  preserve  the  advocates  of  religion  fi-om 
a  snare  into  which  they  have  unhappily  been  too  prone  to  fall,  that, 
namely,  of  opposing  themselves  to  the  study  of  nature  altogether,  in- 
stead of  seeking  in  natural  phenomena  rightly  interpreted  a  witness 
to  the  truths  of  revelation.  The  task  before  them  was  propei-ly  that 
of  framing  such  wider  generalizations  as  should  connect  the  infinite 
i-ange  of  divinely  ordered  facts  and  laws  now  opened  in  creation 
with  those  antecedent  ideas  of  Deity  which  had  come  down  from 
the  past ;  in  other  words,  that  of  re-casting  the  earlier  dogmatic  con- 
ceptions and  definitions  moulded  in  the  metaphysical  alembic  of  the 
schoolmen,  in  terms  of  the  naturalistic  or  experimental  philosophy, 
drawn  with  more  exactness  from  direct  observation  of  phenomena. 
The  dogmatic  had  to  be  harmonized  with  the  rational,  the  deductive 
with  the  inventive  modes  of  thought.    The  ])osition  of  religion  rela- 


EDITOli'8  PREFACE 


XX  vn 


tively  to  the  whole  scheme  of  knowledge  having  thus  to  be  reviewed 
ab  hiit'io,  there  was  for  the  first  time  elearly  drawn  the  great  and 
lasting  distinction  between  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion.  From 
that  memorable  crisis  is  to  be  dated  the  foundation  of  that  great 
English  school  of  natural  theology,  in  which  the  entire  body  of  the 
Christian  evidences  has  since  undergone  the  process  of  systematic 
reconstruction.  The  fabric  of  modern  divinity  thus  grew  up  less  in 
accordance  with  a  doctrinal  than  an  ethical  law.  A  new  and  distinct 
province  was  thenceforth  constituted  in  theological  literature,  under 
the  auspices  of  that  philosophical  class,  to  whom  the  jealousies  or 
fears  of  their  less  advancing  contemporaries  attached  a  special 
appellation  in  the  party  nomenclature  of  the  time,  as  "moi-al"  or 
"  rational"  theologians.  Foremost  among  these  for  breadth,  free- 
dom and  simplicity  of  view,  the  eclectic  Platonists  soon  drew  upon 
themselves  the  further  synonyme  of  "  Latitudinarians." 

The  value  of  an  exact  and  severe  philosophical  discipline  was  at 
once  apparent  in  the  firm  and  independent  ground  which  it  afforded 
for  reconstructing  both  the  evidences  and  the  superincumbent  fabric 
of  religion  in  the  face  of  the  theological  difficulties  of  the  time.  The 
influence  of  the  "  new  philosophy"  may  be  detected  fi-om  that  period 
in  two  different,  though  not  essentially  hostile  directions. 

At  Oxford  the  current  of  theological  inquiry  inclined  in  the  main 
to  the  masculine  realistic  form  of  Protestantism,  of  which  Chilling- 
worth  may  be  regarded  as  the  type.  That  of  Cambridge  was  tinc- 
tured by  the  more  romantic,  ideal,  and  somewhat  mystical  Catholi- 
cism of  the  later  Academic  or  Neo-Platonic  school.  Taking  as  its 
point  of  departure  the  axioms  of  natural  religion,  determined  by 
strict  scientific  analysis  of  the  human  consciousness  in  its  relation  to 
the  infinite  and  the  absolute,  the  Platonic  method  of  inquiry  led  the 
mind  by  successive  steps  of  reasoning  from  the  primary  truths  of 
theism  to  the  distinctive  basis  of  Christian  conviction,  the  personal 
revelation  of  God  in  holy  Scripture.  The  new  divinity  brought  to  the 
interpretation  of  the  written  word  the  aids  of  the  cultivated  intellect, 
beside  the  precedents  of  Christian  antiquity.  Against  the  assaults  of 
the  sceptic  or  the  rationalist  it  presented  the  firm  fi-o!it  of  tlieistic 
demonstration ;  against  conflicting  shapes  of  I'eligious  error,  the  no 
less  solid  structure  of  scriptural  and  historical  proof.  Proceeding 
in  the  order  of  conception  from  the  idea  of  the  religious  life  in 
the  individual  to  that  of  the  church,  in  reverse  of  the  ancient 
or  medieval  rule,  it  aimed  at  founding  on  certain  general  postu- 


xxvin 


KDlTOllS  PREFACE. 


lates,  or  eleineutaiy  recepta  of  belief,  the  laws  of  Christian  union. 
Thus  while  tenacious,  \vithout  abatement  or  compromise,  of  every 
essential  article  of  the  gospel,  as  categorically  enunciated  in  lioly 
wi-it,  and  systematically  defined  in  the  Creeds,  it  refused  to  nar- 
row the  terms  of  salvation  or  conditions  of  communion  beyond  the 
limits  set  by  scripture  and  the  first  ages,  and  sought  to  extend  a 
charitable  latitude  and  discretion  to  matters  not  in  themselves  fun- 
damental, or  of  express  divine  enactment,  not  suited  equally  to  the 
temjjerament  of  every  branch  of  the  church,  or  every  variety  of 
man's  nature. 

Without  pretending  to  estimate  the  entire  changes  which  have 
since  passed  over  theological  controversy  through  tiie  influence  of 
the  "  rational"  or  "  latitudinarian"  school,  it  is  not  difficult  to  con- 
nect its  later  phases  with  the  precedents  first  distinctively  set  by  the 
scientific  thinkers  of  the  Platonizing  section.  The  broad  grounds 
of  Scripture  and  reason  laid  down  by  them  have  at  least  enabled  an 
independent  and  impregnable  position  to  be  maintained  between  the 
two  extreme  forms  of  antagonism,  by  which  (speaking  largely)  the 
integrity  of  the  Church  of  England  has  from  time  to  time  been 
jeopardized.  The  two  poles  between  which  the  great  mass  of  un- 
settled conviction  has  continued  to  oscillate  may  be  described  in 
general  terms  as  those  of  Romanism  and  Puritanism. 

So  far  as  either  of  these  two  powerfiil  forces  might  be  taken  to 
represent  the  spiritual  requirements  of  large  classes  of  mankind  in 
imperfectly  evangelized  society,  or  to  embody  any  deep  and  abiding, 
albeit  defective  sentiment  in  the  human  mind,  the  problem  of  its  en- 
tire suppression  or  extinction  has  at  no  time  appeared  capable  of  a 
practical  solution.  Weaker  minds  have  sought  to  escape  fi-om  one 
extreme  by  taking  refuge  in  the  other.  But  by  the  bold  yet  scriji- 
tural  attitude  assumed  by  the  philosophic  divines  each  form  of  error 
was  disarmed  of  its  power  to  compromise  the  general  cause.  They 
dared  to  act  on  the  eclectic  maxim  that  no  policy  could  be  so  effec- 
tual in  dealing  Avith  perverted  or  conflicting  systems  of  opinion  as 
that  which  by  its  inherent  affinity  for  truth  absorbs  fi'eely  and  spon- 
taneously whatsoever  of  good  and  true  they  respectively  contain,  re- 
jecting and  eliminating  the  unsound  and  detrimental  elements  :  not 
jealously  shrinking  from  any  wise  institution  or  salutaiy  usage,  merely 
because  it  may  be  enjoyed  by  an  opponent  ;  yet  \vithal  rc])udiating 
or  cutting  off  every  thing  scandalous  or  untrue,  even  should  it  in- 
volve the  confession  of  weakness  or  oversight  at  home. 


EDITOU'S  PREFACE. 


XXIX 


Tims  without  any  morbid  and  unreasoning  fear  of  every  thing  <h 
facto  within  tlie  pale  of  Rome,  the  exclusive  claims  of  the  popedom 
to  universal  supremacy  met  in  divines  of  this  catholic  spirit  their  most 
consistent  and  powerful  antagonists.  To  the  claims  of  sacerdotal 
absolutism  indeed,  whether  emanating  from  Rome  or  Geneva,  they 
were  opposed  by  their  most  elementary  principles.  In  their  theory 
of  church  government  and  organization  they  sought  to  identify  them- 
selves with  the  earliest  ages.  The  primitive  rule  had  grown  up  out 
of  the  simple  germ  left  at  the  close  of  the  canon  of  apostolic 
inspiration,  in  liarmouy  with  the  scientific  formulas  of  Roman  law, 
and  the  constitutional  maxims  of  the  greatest  jurisconsults  of  the 
empire.  It  had  been  recently  once  more  reconstructed,  in  its  ap- 
plication to  the  modern  exigences  of  the  church,  and  the  altered 
conditions  of  society,  by  the  judicious  intellect  and  profound  learning 
of  Hooker^.  The  collective  church,  and  not  any  S2)ecial  order  or  caste 
within  it,  was,  consistently  with  that  view,  declared  to  be  the  de- 
positary of  divine  power.  Within  this  general  unity  various  degrees 
and  kinds  of  spiritual  authority  might  coexist,  and  be  delegated  to 
different  and  correlative  centres  or  agents.  But  no  mere  usage  or 
prescription  could  deprive  the  church  collective,  or  any  particular 
branch  of  the  whole,  of  its  inherent  right  to  determine  its  own  form 
of  government,  ritual  and  discipline,  within  the  limits  actually  laid 
down  by  the  first  inspired  founders  of  the  church. 

Convinced  as  they  were  of  the  superior  claims  of  the  episcopal,  as 
the  apostolic  (and  till  recently  unbroken)  institution  of  gospel  hie- 
rarchj',  hcjlders  of  these  views  were  not  disposed  hastily  to  deny  the 
terms  of  salvation,  or  the  title  to  church-membership,  to  such  as 
from  early  prejudice  or  constitutional  difference  were  satisfied  with 
a  less  primitive  or  perfect  model  of  ecclesiastical  organization.  To 
the  protestant  bodies  on  the  continent  who,  orthodox  in  doctrine, 
had  from  various  causes  lap.sed  from  the  episcopal  standard,  they 
were  forward  in  extending  the  hand  of  fellowship  and  communion, 
and  may  be  viewed  as  the  precursors  of  the  various  attempts  which 
have  since  been  made  towards  a  general  comprehension  or  alliance 
on  the  basis  of  a  common  Protestantism.  At  liome,  however,  they 
threw  the  whole  force  of  their  intellects  and  energies  into  a  power- 
ful, though  temperate  reaction  against  the  narrow  persecuting  spirit 
of  Puritanism,  then  in  its  highest  ascendency.    Nothing  could  l)e 

See  Keble's  Preface  to  Hooker,  vol.i.  \t.  Ixxviii, 


XXX 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


more  abliurix'ut  fi-oni  tlieij-  generous  and  liljcral  temperament,  than 
a  system  which,  having  lost  in  its  season  of  power  the  simple  gran- 
deur of  its  early  faith,  seemed  but  to  re^nve  the  most  hateful  features 
of  Jewish  Pharisaism  ;  overshadowing  \vith  its  tone  of  scrupulous 
precision  the  whole  ciu'rent  of  the  national  character ;  interdicting  all 
geniality  or  confidence  in  the  intercourse  of  public,  and  the  manners 
of  private  life  ;  substituting  a  legal  measure  for  spontaneous  fi-eedom 
as  its  rituid  standard ;  propagating  its  joyless  gospel  by  niultiph'ing 
inducements  to  hj'pocritical  affectation  of  sanctity,  alienating  the 
young,  wearying  the  earnest-hearted,  and  drj-ing  up  all  the  springs 
of  intellectual  vigour  in  literature,  enteqirise,  taste,  science  and  art. 

The  bold  and  striking  contrast  to  the  tone  and  bias  of  the  pm-i- 
tanic  faction  displayed  by  the  first  movers  of  a  more  liberal  spirit 
within  the  church,  warmly  attached,  both  by  evangelical  teaching 
and  philosophical  culture,  to  the  rights  of  conscience  and  reason, 
led  originally  to  their  receiving  at  the  hands  of  their  opponents 
t!ie  epithet  of  "  Latitude-men"  or  "  Latitudinarians."  Though  at 
first  designed,  and,  in  later  times,  too  often  employed  as  the  vehicle 
for  insinuating  a  charge  of  indifference  or  laxity  in  religious  faith, 
in  the  term  thus  chosen  an  unconscious  compliment  was  virtually 
conveyed  to  the  superior  freedom  and  enlargement  of  belief  which 
it  served  to  betoken.  The  notices  of  contemporary  writers  enable 
us  to  fix  with  pi'ecision  both  the  date  and  the  circumstances  which 
mark  the  accession  of  this  expressive  epithet  to  the  terminology  of 
party.  "  In  opposition,"  says  the  anonymous  author  of  the  best 
account  of  the  new  school,  "  to  that  hide-bound,  strait-lac'd  spirit 
that  did  then  prevail,  they  were  called  Latitude-men  ;  for  that  was 
the  first  original  of  the  name,  whatever  sense  hath  since  been  put 
upon  it^"  Burnet's  account  of  the  origin  of  the  name  justifies  no  less 
strongly  the  xiew  which  has  here  been  given.  "  They  studied,"  he 
writes,  "  to  examine  further  into  the  nature  of  things  than  had  been 
done  formerly.  They  declared  against  superstition  on  the  one  hand, 
and  enthusiasm  on  the  other.  They  loved  the  constitution  of  the 
church,  and  the  liturgy,  and  could  well  live  under  them ;  but  they  did 
not  think  it  unlawful  to  live  under  another  form.  They  wished  that 
things  might  have  been  carried  with  more  moderation.    And  they 

"  "  An  Account  of  the  New  Sect  of  Latitude-meu,"  in  a  letter  of  S.  P.  of 
Cambridge  to  G.  B.  of  Oxford.  The  question  of  the  authorship  of  this  re- 
markable tract,  generally  a.ssigned  to  Patrick,  will  be  reverted  to  at  a  subse- 
quent page. 


EDITOR'S  I'liEFACE. 


continued  to  keep  a  good  correspondence  with  those  who  had  dif- 
fered from  them  in  opinion,  and  allowed  a  great  freedom  both  in 
philosophy  and  in  divinity  ;  fi'om  whence  they  were  called  men  of 
latitude.  And  upon  this  men  of  narrower  thoughts  and  fiercer 
tempers  fastened  upon  them  the  name  of  Latitudinarians."- — i.  324. 

Hallamf,  while  he  omits  to  mention  Patrick,  whom  Burnet  point- 
edly includes  in  his  list  of  the  latitudinarian  or  Platonizing  theolo- 
gians, characterises  them  generally  as  "  learned  rather  in  profane 
philosophy  than  in  the  fathers ;  more  full  of  Plato  and  Plotinus  than 
J erome  or  Chrysostom ;  great  maintainers  of  natural  religion  and 
of  the  eternal  laws  of  morality  ;  not  very  solicitous  about  systems 
of  orthodoxy,  and  limiting  very  considerably  beyond  the  notions  of 
former  ages  the  fundamental  tenets  of  Christiauityc." 

<■  Introduction  to  the  History  of  Literature,  iv.  147.  Sir  Philip  Warwick,  in 
his  Memoirs,  written  immediately  after  the  restoration,  expresses  himseK  as 
"  heartily  sorry  that  there  is  a  new  word  of  distinction  come  up  amonsrst  us, 
viz.  Latitudinarian." — p.  69.  This  allusion  seems  to  fix  approximately  the 
date  of  the  earliest  introduction  of  the  epithet. 

s  A  brief  summary  of  the  materials  from  which  the  present  rapid  outline  of 
the  tenets  of  the  Platonic  or  Latitudinarian  divines  has  been  principally  drawn, 
in  addition  to  the  invaluable  letter  of  S.  P., — which  may  also  assist  the  stu- 
dent in  framing  a  more  complete  picture  of  so  important  an  episode  in  literary 
and  ecclesiastical  history,  may  not  be  unacceptable  in  this  place. 

The  published  remains  of  the  leading  agents  in  the  revival  of  Platonism  in 
England,  Cudworth,  Whichcote,  Wilkins.  More,  Worthington  and  Smith,  offer 
naturally  the  most  direct  and  authentic  sources  of  information  respecting  the 
general  principles  of  that  school,  of  which  Patrick  may  be  regarded  as  the 
most  faithful  and  diligent  exponent  in  their  application  to  the  theory  and  prac- 
tice of  religion  and  morality. 

A  spirited  exposition  and  defence  of  latitudinarian  views  in  relation  to  theo- 
logy was  put  forth  anonymously  in  1670,  and  reprinted  in  the  following  year, 
in  an  8vo  volume,  entitled,  "The  principles  and  practices  of  certain  modenite 
divines  of  the  Church  of  England  (greatly  misunderstood)  truly  represented  and 
defended,"  in  three  parts.  It  was  the  work  of  Edward  Fowler,  an  Oxford 
divine,  rector  of  Northolt  in  Bedfordshire,  and  subsequently  of  All  Hallows, 
Bread  St.,  and  St.  Giles',  Cripplegate,  in  London,  and  in  1691  consecrated  to 
the  see  of  Gloucester.  (Wood,  iv.  613.)  Fowler  vindicates  at  length,  on  the  same 
grounds  as  Chillingworth,  the  theory  of  fundamentals,  as  the  basis  of  accord 
both  with  the  primitive  and  modem  reformed  churches.  Claiming  the  authority 
of  Ussher,  Bramhall,  and  others  of  the  most  esteemed  and  orthodox  Anglican 
divines,  he  justifies  subscription  to  the  39  articles  as  terms  of  union  and  com- 
prehension, not  as  exclusive  definitions  of  doctrine,  (in  complete  accordance  with 
Patrick's  own  language  in  his  letter  to  Mapletoft,  vol.  ix.  p.  617,)  and  pleads 
the  sanction  of  the  church  herself  in  favour  of  a  liberal  and  charitable  interpreta- 
tion. Rebutting  the  charge  of  Arniinianism,  he  substantiates  the  teaching  of 
his  school  as  "a  middle  way  between  the  Calvini.sts  and  Remonstrants,"  and 


xxxn 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


To  Whiclicote  and  Cud  worth,  the  great  reformers  iu  their  day  of  tlic 
educational  coui"se  at  Cambridge,  is  to  be  traced  by  unvarying  con- 
sent the  j^aternity  of  that  specific  system  of  opinions, — scientific, 
pohtical,  and  religious, — which  had  its  common  centre  in  a  nucleus 
of  Platonic  ideas.  It  was  still  more  fully  developed  by  Henry  More 
and  John  Smith,  under  whose  care  Patrick  received  his  early  training 
at  the  university.  Within  the  brief  and  necessarily  condensed  analysis 
here  attempted,  no  more  has  been  found  possible  than  to  define  in  the 
most  genei-al  terms  the  leading  principles  of  that  movement,  and  its 
effects  upon  the  later  development  of  thought.  It  was  not  consistent 
with  the  nature  or  designs  of  the  Platonic  revival  to  estalJtish  itself  in 

instances  as  a  parallel  the  method  propounded  by  Catharinus  at  the  council  of 
Trent  for  reconciling  the  Dominicans  and  Franciscans.  The  weak  and  conomon- 
place  cavils  at  the  use  of  human  reason  and  the  prominence  of  "  morality"  in 
their  religious  teaching  are  briefly  and  conclusively  set  aside. 

A  violent  but  feeble  attack  was  made  upon  the  school  in  1677,  by  John 
Warly,  D.  D.,  late  Fellow  of  Clare  Hall,  in  "The  Reasoning  Apostate,  or 
modem  latitude  man  considered,  as  he  opposeth  the  authority  of  the  king  and 
the  church."  He  therein  compares  their  recourse  to  reason  in  defence  of  religion 
and  church  government  with  the  rashness  of  Uzzah  "  in  supporting  the  tottering 
ark  with  their  discourses,"  and  charges  them  with  "  taking  oS  from  the  au- 
thority of  the  church,  to  be  (as  Cassian  says  of  the  secular  order  of  men  in  the 
Roman  church)  sacerdoturientes,  a  new  kind  of  Grey-friars  in  the  reformed 
religion,  not  pressing  the  authority  of  the  church  or  the  fathers." 

Dr.  James  Duport,  Regius  Professor  of  Greek  at  Cambridge,  Master  of 
Magdalene,  and  predecessor  to  Patrick  in  the  deanery  of  Peterborough,  a 
divine  of  profound  classical  learning  and  liberal  scholarship,  expressed  his  dis- 
like to  the  new  and  invidious  designation  in  his  3Iusa  suhsecivce,  or  Poelica 
stromata,  published  in  1676,  in  a  smart  epigram  in  Latitudinarios,  (p.  58.) 
Meric  Casaubon,  a  firm  devotee  to  scholastic  divinitj',  was  strenuous  in  op- 
posing the  union  of  religion  with  philosophy.  South,  in  his  capacity  of  public 
orator,  made  the  new  opinions  the  subject  of  a  facetious  attack  in  the  Oxford 
rostrum.  Glanvill,  on  the  contrary,  who  made  some  pretensions  to  physical 
science,  finding  something  in  the  weaker  phases  of  Platonism  which  harmonized 
with  his  cravings  for  the  supernatural  and  the  superstitious,  was  disposed  to 
lend  a  modified  support  to  the  league  of  theology  with  natural  reason. 

In  addition  to  the  brief  historical  notices  of  Burnet  and  Hallam,  Briicker's 
account  of  the  revival  of  Platonism  in  England  wiU  be  found  instructive,  as 
connecting  it  with  the  correlative  agencies  in  the  histoiy  of  intellectual  pro- 
gress on  the  continent.  But  the  English  reader  will  with  reason  demur  to  the 
sweeping  criticism  with  which  he  merges  the  tender  if  at  times  enthusiastic 
piety  of  Heniy  More,  and  the  solid  though  paradoxical  and  somewhat  pedantic 
belief  of  Cudworth,  with  the  mysterious  theurgy  and  transcendental  cabbalism 
of  Reuchlin,  Pico,  Ficino,  George  of  Trebisond,  Agrippa,  and  other  sages  of  the 
same  mystic  sept  of  Germany  and  Italy,  which  he  classifies  as  philosopJtia 
Piltltugm-ico-PIatonico-Cahhalhtica,  (Hist.  Philos.  iv.  433-448.)  Further  illus- 
trations will  be  found  in  Morhof'.^  Polyhistor,  vol.  ii.  4t,  125,  211. 


EDITOR  S  PREFACE 


XXXlll 


perpetuity  as  a  distinctive  party  or  school  in  literature  or  the  church ; 
nor  need  the  traces  of  any  such  systematic  design  be  sought  for  in  the 
wi'itings  of  its  founders.  Yet  their  work  must  not  be  thought  to 
have  passed  away  with  them,  any  more  than  the  total  effects  produced 
by  their  agency  upon  the  general  progress  of  thought  and  opinion 
are  to  be  measured  by  .their  scanty  literary  remains.  Their  mission  as 
reformers  of  education  may  be  said  to  have  lain  less  in  founding  a  per- 
manent order  or  sect  in  philosophy,  than  in  imparting  a  specific  impulse 
to  the  general  cuiTcnt  of  thought,  and  throwing  in  a  leaven  of  ideas 
which  should  enter  into  the  entire  mental  system  of  the  age.  Thus 
the  influence  of  their  ideal  method  in  speculative  reasoning  may  be 
traced,  through  its  effect  upon  the  genius  of  Ne\vton,  as  it  pervades 
the  whole  course  of  later  physical  science.  Their  broad  and  more 
eclectic  formulas  of  morals,  psychology,  and  polity,  qualifying  in 
part  those  of  Locke,  the  representative  of  the  latitudinarianism  of 
Oxford,  affected  the  entire  tenor  of  the  national  ethics,  metaphysics, 
and  jurisprudence ;  while  in  the  conduct  of  religious  controversy 
much  of  the  subsequent  gain  in  fi-eedom,  elevation,  and  charity  may 
be  as  logically  traced  back,  by  no  overstrained  analysis,  to  the  rational 
and  tolerant  tone  which  they  were  mainly  instrumental  in  enforcing^. 

It  is  certain  that  the  usage  of  the  term  Latitudinarian  was  exported 
to  the  continent  fi-om  this  country.  But  the  date  of  its  earliest  introduc- 
tion cannot  be  traced  with  the  same  precision  :  nor  is  it  equally  clear  at 
what  period  the  opinions  it  was  employed  to  designate  began  first  to 
assume  the  aspect  of  a  distinct  system  or  philosophical  creed.  In  rela- 
tion to  the  general  history  of  speculative  philosophy,  the  movement  may  be 
said  to  have  borne  a  relation  to  the  revolutionizing  doctrines  of  Spinoza 
very  similar  to  that  assumed  by  its  correlative  noi-m  of  thought  in  England  to- 
wards the  innovatory  theories  of  Bacon,  or  rather  of  Hobbes.  The  attempt 
however  to  revivify  the  weakened  forces  of  orthodoxy  by  the  new  processes  of 
free  inquiry  was  not  there  based  so  much  upon  the  Platonic  hypothesis  of  abso- 
lute ideas  or  laws  of  certainty,  as  upon  the  sceptical  ground  of  the  indefinite- 
ness  and  incertitude  of  truth  in  its  primary  and  ultimate  forms.  Its  tendency 
was  in  consequence  less  to  strengthen  and  solidify  than  to  embarrass  the  at- 
tempt to  make  the  light  of  recent  science  subservient  to  the  cause  of  reli- 
gious belief  and  Christian  union.  Both  at  home  and  abroad  the  fundamental 
conception  of  latitude  started  from  the  hope  of  distinguishing  between  the  es- 
sence and  the  minor  accessaries  of  the  faith,  and  recurring  to  the  simplest  unity 
by  duly  subordinating  the  circumstantials  of  Christianity  to  what  was  absolutely 
of  its  essence.  The  same  vague  and  indiscriminate  clamour  was  attendant  on 
both  attempts  alike,  as  "rational,"  Pelagian,  Socinian,  even  atheistic.  But  it 
must  be  admitted  that  the  weight  of  odium  bore  with  a  very  different  amount  of 
plausibility  upon  the  two  cases.    Tlie  continental  programme  of  latitude  was 

C 


XXXIV 


EDlTOJrS  PRKFACE. 


The  restoration  of  the  inonarcliy  and  the  church  aflPorded  imme- 
diate and  opportune  scope  for  the  action  of  a  number  of  able  minds 
trained  in  the  masculine  and  liberal  discipline  which  has  been  thus 

marked  by  the  absence  of  those  elements  of  stability  and  strength  which  the 
English  Platonizers  possessed  in  a  deeply  scriptural  faith  and  an  apostolic 
polity.  The  trust  of  the  latter  lay  in  rallying  the  scattered  convictions  of  the 
age  to  the  standard  of  the  early  Creeds.  The  foreign  school,  flattering  it  in  its 
dislike  of  strictness,  was  disposed  to  ignore,  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Incarnation 
and  the  Atonement,  the  very  basis  of  Christendom  itself. 

The  practical  adoption  of  the  word  Latitudinarian  appears  to  date  from  the 
various  efforts  set  on  foot  under  those  principles  for  a  general  union  or  re- 
conciliation of  Protestants  in  France,  Swtzerland,  parts  of  Germany,  and  the 
Low  Countries,  especially  of  the  several  Lutheran  bodies  and  the  reformed 
Calvinistic  or  Zwinghan  churches  of  Geneva.  The  fetal  stumblingblock  to 
every  scheme  of  comprehension  lay  in  the  difficult  problem  of  defining  the  limits 
of  orthodox  concession  in  the  direction  of  Arian  or  Socinian  tenets.  By  con- 
senting to  throw  down  the  barriers  which  guarded  the  atonement,  and  open  to 
the  Unitarian  the  portals  to  full  ecclesiastical  communion,  the  foreign  latitudi- 
narians  not  only  transcended,  but  absolutely  negatived  the  conditions  of  catho- 
licity which  had  been  professed,  and  to  a  great  extent  established,  by  their 
brethren  in  this  country.  Thus  D'Huisseau,  a  professor  and  pastor  at  Saumur, 
who  promulgated  in  1670,  "  La  Reunion  du  Christianiame,  ou  la  manifere 
de  rejoindre  tous  les  Chretiens  sous  une  seule  confession  de  foi,"  included 
in  his  comprehensive  scheme  of  confession  the  Eastern  and  Western 
churches,  Greeks,  Romanists  and  Protestants,  episcopalians  and  presbyterians, 
not  even  excepting  the  Unitarians.  Supported  as  it  was  by  many  Calvinian 
pastors  of  note,  Papin,  Pajon,  Pictet,  Elias  Saurin,  and  many  theologians  of 
the  liberal  school  of  Saumur,  this  extravagant  and  shadowy  project  was  forth- 
with condemned  by  the  synod  of  Anjou  Its  chief  antagonist  was  Jurieu,  a  dis- 
tinguished C'alvinist  divine  of  Dutch  extraction,  who  had  received  Anglican 
orders,  but  subsequently  exercised  presbyterian  functions  in  France  and  Hol- 
land. Himself  an  advocate  for  comprehension,  on  the  basis  of  orthodoxy  in 
doctrine,  and  indifferent  to  forms  of  ecclesiastical  organization,  Jurieu  de- 
nounced as  replete  with  Socinianism  and  infidelity  the  unbounded  liberalism 
which  would  extend  the  limits  of  fellowship  to  the  Romish  and  Arian  commu- 
nions. In  1696  he  put  forth  "La  Religion  du  Latitudinaire,  avec  apologie 
pour  la  doctrine  de  la  Sainte  Trinity,"  in  which  he  speaks  of  the  latitudinarians 
as  secte  pernicieuse  qui  est  dans  les  entniilhs  de  Verjlise.  Elle  les  derarera,  si 
Dieu  n'y  apporte  de  forts  rernedes.  .  .  Episcopnus  et  Courcelie,  he  complains,  ont 
fait  jilug  de  Sociniens  que  CrelUus  et  Socin.  Professing  to  accept  Saurin's  fair 
and  moderate  definition  of  a  latitude-man,  C'est  un  homme  qui  travaiUe  a  elar//er 
le  chemin  du  salut,  et  qui  saure  le  plus  de  gens  qu'il  pjeut,  Jurieu  yet  demurs 
to  the  use  of  reason  as  the  arbiter  of  religious  truth.  Drawing  attention  to 
the  encroachments  reported  to  have  been  recently  made  by  Socinian  sentiments 
in  England,  he  adverts  with  alarm  to  Locke's  advocacy  of  reason  and  tolerance, 
to  the  controversy  occasioned  by  Sherlock's  Vindication  of  the  Trinity,  and  his 
sermon  at  Oxford,  Nov.  25,  1695,  formally  condemned  by  the  university,  and 
to  a  treatise  called  "  Tlie  Naked  Gospel,"  for  which  the  author  (Arthur  Buryt 


EDITOirS  PREFACE. 


xxxv 


broadly  delineated*.  A  new  generation  of  divdnes  seemed  called  for 
by  the  exigencies  of  the  moment.  The  veiy  grounds  of  Chi-istian 
conviction  in  the  public  mind  had  become  so  grievously  unsettled,  old 
associations  broken  up,  and  traditionary  veneration  alienated  if  not 
extinct,  that  there  was  needed  a  class  of  spiritual  teachers  specially 
qualified  at  such  a  crisis  to  control  the  tide  of  sectarian  divergence, 
and  mediate  between  the  primeval  system  of  the  church  and  novel 
but  influential  forms  of  opinion  external  to  hei'.  The  cliurch's  spi- 
ritual resources  had  to  be  adapted  to  the  requirements  of  a  period  of 
transition,  while  the  theory  of  her  constitution  and  the  tenor  of  her 
religious  teaching  partook  necessarily  of  the  plastic  character  of  the 
age. 

Of  those  among  the  clergy  to  whom  the  epithet  of  Latitudinarian 
was  popularly  applied,  several  had,  with  Tillotson,  passed  into  the 
cliurch  ft-om  the  ranks  of  presbyterian  dissent.  Others,  such  as 
Patrick,  although  not  born  within  its  pale,  had  been  brought  by 
the  force  of  circumstances  sufficiently  into  contact  with  it  to  esti- 
mate rightly  its  hollowness  and  acerbity,  and  to  cling  with  en- 
had  been  deprived  of  the  rectorate  of  Exeter  College,  Oxford^  in  1691,  on  the 
charge  of  Socinianism. 

In  reply  to  Jurieu,  Bury  published  in  1697,  "  Latitudinarius  orthodoxus. .  .  . 
accesserunt  Vindiciae  libertatis  ecclesiae  Anglicanae  et  Arthuri  Bury,  S.  T.  P., 
contra  ineptias  et  calumnias  P.  Jurieu  ;"  in  which  he  complains  of  intolerant 
treatment,  reviews  the  general  principles  of  his  party  in  their  bearing  on  the 
most  essential  dogmas  of  Christianity,  and  without  meeting  directly  the  charge 
of  Socinianism,  pleads  against  the  existing  restraints  upon  freedom  and  inter- 
communion. 

A  valuable  list  of  the  polemical  literature  to  which  the  Saumurian  contro- 
versy gave  birth,  and  which  may  be  consulted  in  further  illustration  of  the  de- 
velopment of  the  policy  of  latitude  and  comprehension  on  the  continent,  is 
given  in  Grasse's  Lehrbuch  fiir  Literargeschiohte,  vol.  iii.  pt.  2.  p.  389  sqq. 
The  paper  on  Schemes  of  Comprehension  contributed  by  the  Rev.  H.  B.  Wilson 
to  the  Oxford  Essays  for  1857,  supplies  much  useful  infonuation  relating  to  the 
later  phases  of  the  movement  at  home  as  well  as  abroad. 

'  The  influence  of  other  minds,  albeit  not  originally  moulded  in  the  specific 
matrix  of  Platonism,  must  not  be  passed  over,  the  force  of  whose  genius  was 
lent  to  the  promotion  of  tolerance  and  the  enlargement  of  the  terms  of  salvation. 
The  names  of  Hooker,  Hales,  Chillingworth,  and  Jeremy  Taylor,  as  they  have 
too  often  shared  the  reproach  of  latitudinarianism,  so  are  they  entitled  to  a 
place  in  the  catalogue  of  those  whose  labours  converged  by  slightly  different 
paths  into  one  and  the  same  field.  The  Ecclesia.stical  Polity,  tlie  Religion  of 
Protestants,  and  the  Liberty  of  Prophesying,  form  memoralile  links  in  the 
chain  \iy  which  the  rights  of  reason  and  tlie  truths  of  revelation  have  been 
steadily  .approximated,  aiid  at  length  durably  solidified. 

C  2 


xxxvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


hanced  devotion  to  the  bosom  of  the  church.  So  long  as  the  govern- 
ment and  formularies  of  the  church  seemed  helplessly  in  abeyance, 
and  the  presbyterian  platform,  established  under  legislative  sanction 
as  the  national  form  of  worship,  offered  for  all  practical  pui-poses  the 
only  available  means  of  guiding  and  elevating  the  religious  life  of 
the  masses,  men  of  Patricks  earnest  reality  and  strong  sense  of 
ministerial  duty  were  unable  to  refuse  their  cooperation,  provi- 
sionally at  least,  with  its  external  rule.  At  the  same  time  their 
earliest  associations,  fortified  by  mature  conviction,  led  them  to 
cherish  a  preferential  desire  and  veneration  for  the  more  primitive 
system  of  their  fathers.  In  his  own  case  Patrick  recounts  with 
much  candour  and  truth  of  feeling  the  conflict  of  mind  through 
which  he  had  to  pass,  when  having  submitted  to  presbyterian  ordi- 
nation he  became  finally  convinced  by  his  own  study  of  the  fathers, 
(the  epistles  of  Ignatius  in  particular,)  and  the  arguments  of  Ham- 
mond and  Thorndike,  of  the  necessity  of  episcopal  orders  as  an  in- 
stitution of  the  apostles.  Having  resolved  to  qualify  himself  for  the 
ministry  in  a  legitimate  manner  l)y  the  imposition  of  the  hands  of 
a  bishop,  he  was  by  the  good  offices  of  the  venerable  Joseph  Hall, 
the  expelled  bishop  of  Norwich,  admitted  in  one  day  to  the  cumu- 
lative ordei-s  of  deacon  and  priest.  He  notwithstanding  considered 
himself  by  no  means  precluded  from  still  conforming  to  the  esta- 
blished regime  of  ecclesiastical  organization,  or  fi-om  subjecting  him- 
self to  the  ordeal  of  examination  by  the  committee  of  triers,  on  being 
I)resented  to  the  li^•ing  of  BatterseaJ.  The  constant  aim  of  his  pas- 
toral j)olicy  in  his  parish  was  to  raise  the  spiritual  tone  and  stimu- 
late the  religious  requirements  of  his  congi-egation,  preparing  them 
gradually  and  with  the  utmost  judgment  for  the  re-introduction  of  a 
sounder  and  more  apostolic  regimen.  Eemote  as  such  a  restora- 
tion mu.st  then  have  appeared,  his  writings  for  years  before  the 
event  are  yet  conspicuous  for  a  boldness  and  elevation  of  teaching, 
such  as  may  well  excite  the  sui'prise  and  veneration  of  the  reader, 
who  duly  ponders  the  amount  of  sectarian  prejudice  and  polemical 
virulence  rife  during  that  unliappy  period^.  Admirably  adapted, 
j  See  vol.  ix.  p.  423. 

k  To  this  period  of  Patrick's  career  belong  his  earliest  publications  upon  the 
sacraments,  "  Aqua  Genitalis,"  and  "  Mensa  Mystica ;"  as  well  as  his  "Jewish 
Hjrpocrisy,"  in  which  he  exposes  with  indignant  severitj'  the  lax  and  specious 
antinomianism  into  which  the  popular  religion  had  largely  degenerated,  to- 
gether with  the  Pharisaical  sanctimony  of  its  most  forward  professors. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


XXXVll 


as  ovidencetl  by  the  result,  was  so  moderate  and  conciliatory  a 
course  to  disarm  animosity  and  suspiciou,  and  to  prepare  the 
popular  mind  for  a  recurrence  to  a  truer  standard.  Too  wise  to 
betray  the  opportunity  then  opening  by  unduly  precipitating  a  re- 
turn to  forms  and  practices  long  disused,  he  was  careful  to  lead 
the  way  by  familiarizing  his  flock  with  the  nature  and  the  advan- 
tages of  the  church's  system,  and  the  beauties  of  her  liturgy;  pre- 
paring for  a  complete  resumption  of  the  Anglican  ritual,  by  fre- 
quently "  preaching  about  forms  of  prayer,  the  lawfulness  and  neces- 
sity of  them,"  and  (to  continue  his  own  words)  "  shewing  that  unity 
and  peace  was  far  better  than  those  things  we  were  apt  to  contend 
about  1." 

It  was  providential  for  the  welfare  of  religion  during  so  critical  a 
period  of  transition,  that  so  many  of  the  church's  most  influential 
outposts  were  in  the  keeping  of  men  of  the  same  judicious  and  phi- 
losophical training,  and  capable  of  similar  laige  and  comprehensive 
views  of  ecclesiastical  policy.  In  the  hard  school  of  personal  expe- 
rience they  had  made  acquaintance  with  the  true  nature  of  those 
causes  of  discontent,  which  had  served  to  alienate  for  a  season  the 
heart  of  the  nation  at  large  from  its  legitimate  spiritual  mother,  and 
in  an  age  unsurpassed  for  religious  fervour  had  arrayed  so  much  of 
the  deepest  piety,  the  most  burning  zeal,  and  the  most  generous 
thirst  for  freedom  in  unnatural  rebellion  against  her  rule.  A  deeper 
insight  into  the  actual  requirements  of  the  time  disposed  them  to- 
wards a  policy  of  conciliation  as  a  means  of  restoring  imion,  and  of 
recovering  to  the  church  the  moral  ascendancy  she  had  lately  lost. 
The  immense  advantages  opened  to  her  by  the  restoration  might  be 
employed  to  the  subjugation  of  dissent,  by  better  and  more  effica- 
cious measures  than  those  of  forcible  repression  or  penal  disability. 
A  generation  had  grown  up  in  unavoidable  ignorance  of  her  doc- 
trinal and  disciplinary  system,  whose  allegiance  it  might  not  be  dif- 
ficult to  vnn,  were  she  but  suffered  to  put  forth  her  divine  charac- 
teristics, scripturally  free  from  extremes  on  either  hand  ;  untainted 
by  the  corruptions  of  Rome,  or  the  license  of  dissent ;  neither  intoxi- 
cated by  extravagant  and  reactionary  counsels,  nor  yet  inclined  rashly 
to  surrender  the  high  prestige  of  apostolic  organization.  A  tender  re- 

'  This  latter  .sentiment  may  be  viewed  as  a  key  to  much  of  Patrick's  cliarac- 
ter,  and  as  no  infelicitous  parallel  to  the  celebrated  saying  of  his  fi-iond  'I'i! 
lotson  to  Beveridge,  "Doctor,  doctor,  charity  is  above  rubrics." — See  Birch,  p.  1 2  2 


xxxvni 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


garcl  to  the  ])rejuclices  uiul  lesser  seruples  of  consciences  just  emerg- 
ing from  the  gloomy  bondage  of  puritan  precision,  enabled  the  more 
emphatic  stress  to  be  laid  upon  those  essential  blessings  which  she 
had  to  offer,  of  scriptural  teaching  and  catholic  communion.  By  the 
simple  process  of  remo^nug  or  modifying  whatever  in  her  legalized 
machineiy,  in  mattere  not  scripturally  ordained  or  vital  to  salvation, 
might  be  fairly  chargeable  as  scandalous  to  conscience,  obsolete, 
or  oppressive,  a  sufficienth'  broad  portal  might  be  opened  for  re- 
engaging under  the  ensign  of  the  church  much  of  the  dissatisfied 
piety  and  restless  enthusiasm  which  had  temporarily  strayed  to  sec- 
tarian standards  ;  as  well  as  for  incorporating  into  her  apostolate 
much  that  was  most  highly  gifted  and  most  personally  estimable 
in  the  ranks  of  the  noucoufonnist  ministry. 

Stigmatized  as  they  were  with  equal  malevolence  by  the  partizans 
of  each  extreme  in  the  scale  of  party, — upbraided  at  once  with  too 
loose  and  liberal  a  leaning  by  such  as  would  deny  all  terms  to  past 
seceders,  and  with  a  timeserving,  prelatical,  and  Erastian  spirit  by 
the  fanatics  of  the  other  side,  who  repudiated  all  compromise  with 
episcopacy  and  Arminianism, — it  mil  scarcely  now  be  pretended  that 
the  degree  of  latitude  advocated  by  Patrick  and  the  clergy  of  his  class 
went  beyond  that  moderate  measure  of  reform  in  which  ever  lies  the 
truest  and  most  consistent  conservatism ;  or  that  fii-m  grasp  of  pri- 
marj-  principle  which  enables  the  mind  to  balance  the  mere  externals 
or  circumstantials  of  religion  in  due  subordination  to  its  funda- 
mental and  essential  verities :  unmoved  alike  by  the  subversive  em- 
piricism of  a  blind  and  ill  considered  progress,  and  the  aggrandizing 
theories  of  a  bigoted  and  reactionary  clique.  The  emergency  past, 
a  more  decided  re\Hval  of  primitive  usage,  and  a  steatlier  recun-ence 
to  catholic  standards  of  doctrine,  became  gi'adually  practicable,  with- 
out being  in  any  degree  inconsistent  Mnth  those  earlier  and  well-timed 
concessions  to  a  temporary  weakness  and  scrupulosity  of  conscience. 
To  any  careful  and  critical  reader  of  the  following  volumes,  not  only  a 
more  ])ractical  and  less  mystic  tone  of  thought,  but  a  higher  and  more 
distinctive  tone  of  churchmanship,  dating  from  the  point  of  vantage 
thus  secirred,  -will  be  in  effect  not  the  least  noteworthy  of  those  cha- 
racteristics which  mark  the  gi-adual  development  of  the  writer's  mind 
and  sentiments,  in  common  with  many  others  of  his  school. 

From  that  early  familiarity  with  Neo-Platonic  literature  to  which 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


XXXIX 


allusion  has  been  made,  particularly  the  theosophy  of  the  Alexan- 
drian syncretists,  Philo,  Proclus,  Porphyry,  and  Plotinus,  was  mainly 
derived  that  specific  tincture  of  mysticism  in  the  religious  writings 
of  Patrick,  in  common  with  many  of  his  contemporaries  at  Cam- 
bridge, which  suggests  a  comparison  Avith  the  genius  of  Pascal  and 
Fenelon,  or  the  romantic  pietism  of  the  preceding  age  in  Germany 
and  Spain  "o.  A  kindred  impulse,  natural  and  spontaneous  in  minds 
of  an  intensely  self-conscious  and  meditative  temperament,  seems  to 
have  led  many  at  that  time  to  nurture  the  imagination  upon  the  mys- 
tic lore  of  the  East,  and  the  transcendental  rhapsodies  of  Tauler  and 
Behmen,  Bonaventura  and  St.  Francis  de  Sales.  It  must  in  candour 
be  regretted  that  the  veneration  of  some  of  the  Platonic  fi-aternity  of 
Cambridge  for  the  newly  reopened  speculations  of  Alexandria  should 
have  been  immodei-ate  and  injurious.  It  has  exposed  them  to  the 
reflection  of  having  exalted  the  wisdom  of  expiring  Paganism  above 
that  of  patristic  Christendom  ;  and  of  having  lent  their  sanction  to  a 
theory  of  interpretation  of  Holy  Scripture,  such  as  exhaled  less  the 
godly  simplicity  of  primitive  orthodoxy,  than  the  mythical  savour  of 
Philo  or  Ammonius  Saccas.  So  great  was  the  deference  paid  by 
some  to  the  authority  of  Plato,  that  it  seemed  as  though  uo  evidence 
of  a  theological  tenet  fulfilled  their  canon  of  exactitude,  until  it  had 
been  verified  by  express  reference  to  the  text  of  his  iihilosophical 
lucubrations.  Some  were  even  charged,  not  without  reason,  with 
merging  the  distinctive  origin  of  the  Gospel,  as  a  direct  and  per- 
sonal message  from  the  Deity,  in  the  anticipatory  speculations  of  the 
Platonic  Socrates,  and  with  daring  to  trace  the  most  profound  and 
essential  disclosures  of  St.  Paul  or  St.  John  to  the  j)revious  intima- 
tions of  their  favourite  sage,  whom  they  seemed  willing  to  invest 
with  the  quasi-attributes  of  prophecy  and  inspiration.  The  effu- 
sions of  Henry  More,  and  even  of  Cudworth,  furnish  memorable  in- 
stances of  the  perils,  if  unrestricted,  of  this  speculative  tendency 

"1  The  applicability  of  this  comparison  would  have  been  materially  enhanced, 
had  it  been  found  feasible  to  present  to  the  reader  in  extenso  Patrick's  volu- 
minous correspondence  with  Lady  Gauden,  breathing  tliroughout  an  air  of 
Platonic  and  romantic  sympathy ;  which  it  was  only  possible  to  include  in  an 
abridged  and  fragmentary  form  in  tlie  Appendix. 

"  An  able  critical  essay,  "An  Investigation  of  the  Ti'inity  of  I'lato  and  of 
Philo  Judaeu.s,"  was  published  in  1795  by  Ciesar  Morgan,  formerly  a  college 
pupil  of  Paley,  and  then  rector  of  Wisbeach  and  cliaplain  to  Yorke  bishop  of 
Ely.    In  this  work,  which  has  recently  been  reprinted  for  tlie  syndics  of  the 


xl 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


So  seductive  a  germ  of  fancy  might  unquestionably,  but  for  higher 
influences,  have  developed,  in  the  instance  of  the  English  school  of 
Platonism,  as  in  that  of  their  Alexandrine  masters,  into  a  fantastic 
and  soulless  syncretism  ;  a  strange  union  of  Hellenic  and  oriental  ele- 
ments ;  a  fusion  of  the  gospel  of  Christ  with  the  fables  of  Zoroaster, 
or  the  ecstatic  theurgy  of  the  Rosicrucian  and  Cabbalistic  mysteries; 
to  the  extinction  of  the  simplicity  and  purity  of  the  evangelical  sen- 
timent. But  a  catastrophe  such  as  actually  befell  the  course  of 
Platonic  revival  upon  the  continent  '  was  ha})pily  counteracted  in 
this  coimtry  by  the  deep  intuitional  sense  of  piety,  and  healthy 
realistic  instincts  of  the  English  mind,  fostered  by  the  growing  study 
of  the  facts  of  external  natui-e,  and  a  return  to  the  simple  scriptural 
standard  of  the  first  ages.  As  regards  its  influence  upon  the  mind 
of  Patrick  individually,  it  is  not  um'easonable  to  presume  that  the 
early  diversion  of  his  thoughts  and  energies  into  the  active  field  of 
ministerial  duty  may  have  had  scarcely  less  effect,  under  divine  grace, 
in  restraining  so  valuable  an  instrument  in  the  training  of  souls 
within  the  bounds  of  sober  judgment,  and  in  conformity  with  the 
soundest  tests  of  temperate  and  practical  belief. 

No  less  characteristic  of  the  same  school  of  divines  was  their 
attitude  as  regarded  the  important  questions  then  in  agitation  con- 
cerning the  functions  of  the  human  will  in  relation  to  the  power  of 
divine  grace.  A  strong  line  of  divergence,  due  in  part  to  the  influ- 
ence of  local  or  temporary  causes,  here  separates  the  course  of  Platonic 
development  in  England  from  that  of  the  continent.  Abroad,  the 
urgent  pressure  of  ultramontane  and  Jesuit  polemics  naturally  de- 
termined the  mystical  leaning  of  Port  Royal  and  Saumur  in  the 
direction  of  Jansenistic  and  supralapsarian  Calvinism.  The  conflict 
with  Genevan  and  Scottish  puritanism  at  home  could  not  fail  on  the 
contrary  in  producing  the  effect  of  diverting  the  Platonic  movement 
'at  Cambridge  in  favour  of  a  markedly  Arminian  theology.  Classical 

Pitt  Press,  Morgan  controverts  successfully  many  of  Cudworth's  positions,  and 
exposes  the  looseness  both  of  scholarship  and  theological  reasoning  with  which 
he  had  striven  to  identify  the  teaching  of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul  on  the  article 
of  the  eternal  subsistence  and  incarnation  of  the  Son  or  Word  of  God  with 
Plato's  speculative  doctrine  of  the  A.6yos  or  Divine  Reason.  The  writings  of 
AUix  and  others  on  the  Whistonian  controversy  abound  with  similar  illustra- 
tions. 

o  Compare  Briicker,  quoted  above,  p.  xxxii. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


xli 


culture  and  Attic  pliilosophy,  the  study  of  Stoic  and  Epicurean  ethicB, 
and  the  didactic  maxima  of  Epictetus,  Seneca,  and  Marcus  Antoni- 
nus, combined  with  the  groAving  consciousness  of  human  energy  and 
volition  kindled  by  the  healthy  naturalism  of  Baconian  science,  be- 
came the  centre  of  a  powerful  counteraction  against  that  strong  Au- 
tinomian  bias  which  during  the  suppression  of  the  church  of  England 
had  crept  into  the  popular  teaching.  The  whole  weight  of  latitudi- 
narian  talent  was  thrown  into  the  scale  of  the  Remonstrant  reaction, 
in  opposition  to  the  decisions  of  Dort.  Patristic  study  reverted 
once  more  in  favour  of  the  Grreek  fathers-  and  early  Christian  apo- 
logists, anterior  to  the  Augustiuian  decrees.  The  writings  of  Grotius, 
Calixtus,  Limborch,  and  above  all  Episcopius,  whose  Institutes  formed 
the  most  popular  text  book  at  each  of  the  universities  during  the 
latter  half  of  the  seventeenth  century  P,  had  a  corresponding  in- 
fluence in  moulding  the  minds  of  that  generation  of  divines,  and 
imparting  a  decidedly  Arminian  infusion  to  the  stream  of  later 
Anglican  theology. 

But,  beyond  this  mainly  negative  or  accidental  impulse,  a  reason 
of  an  antecedent  and  more  positive  kind  will  not  fail  to  suggest 
itself  for  this  strong  Arminian  predilection. 

Of  the  two  great  alternative  systems  of  modem  reformed  theology 
that  of  Calvin  was  for  obvious  reasons  not  the  one  most  calculated 
to  attract  a  class  of  minds  whose  religious  belief  was  held  in  in- 
timate union  with  secular  science,  and  whose  whole  idea  of  Christ- 
ianity was  animated  less  by  a  dogmatic  than  an  ethical  design. 
A  creed  which  virtually  pronounced  a  science  of  religion  in  the  strict 
sense  impossible, — which  started  from  the  assumption,  in  its  most 
naked  form,  of  the  total  depravation  of  the  intellectual  no  less  than 
the  spiritual  nature  of  man, — which  denied  to  the  human  understand- 
ing the  right  to  scrutinize  God's  being  and  designs,  and  to  the 
human  will  the  capacity  to  modify  or  resist  his  decrees, — and  which 
referred  the  work  of  man's  salvation  to  a  point  in  the  divine  prede- 
termination and  election,  of  which  revelation  itself  opened  no  cogni- 
zance, and  to  an  operation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  which  not  even  the 
modified  degree  of  law  involved  in  the  formulas  of  Christian  ethics 
could  be  assigned  as  a  witness  to  man's  spontaneity, — could  neither 
invite  nor  tolerate  an  alliance  with  the  inquiring  and  independent 
spirit  of  human  philosophy.  Its  dogmas  of  absolute  predestination, 
P  See  Nelson's  life  of  Bull,  p.  20;  and  Hallam,  iv.  ji.  448. 


xlii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


of  irreversible  election,  of  indefectible  grace,  of  an  exterior  necessity 
preveuient  to  and  wholly  determining  the  functions  of  the  human 
agent,  could  offer  neither  grounds  of  logic  nor  bonds  of  sympathy  for 
such  an  indulgence  of  independent  i-eason  and  volition.  How,  it 
was  felt,  without  habitual  confidence  in  the  trustworthiness  and  fi-ee 
action  of  man's  faculties,  could  any  systematic  scheme  of  abstract  or 
natural  science  be  constructed  ?  Without  volition,  and  its  coordinate 
responsibility,  what  formula  could  be  found  on  which  to  generalize 
the  phenomena  of  ethics,  or  to  regulate  and  classify  the  laws  of  imi- 
versal  action  1  Hence  it  naturally  followed  that  the  first  inchoate 
efforts  of  the  inquiring  spirit  of  modern  times  to  subject  the  grounds 
of  religion  to  the  tests  of  reason  and  natural  law,  and  to  reduce  the 
Christian  evidences  to  a  symmetrical  body  of  intellectual  and  ethical 
proof,  were  accompanied  by  a  decided  prepossession  on  the  part  of 
the  philosophical  classes  for  the  divinity  of  Arminius  and  the  Grotian 
school,  as  opposed  to  that  of  Calvin  and  Beza. 

It  has  been  one  design  of  these  preliminary  remarks,  brief  and 
inadequate  as  they  unavoidably  are,  to  enable  the  reader  to  bring  to 
the  perusal  of  the  following  volumes  some  knowledge  of  the  philo- 
sophical and  theological  antecedents  of  their  author.  Their  end 
^vill  not  have  been  wholly  lost,  if  they  assist  towards  interpi-eting 
any  peculiarities  in  the  constitution  of  his  mind  or  character  which 
might  otherwise  be  taken  to  bespeak  an  exceptional  and  not  always 
safe  or  healthful  idiosyncrasy.  Without  some  such  imderstauding 
it  might  be  difficult  to  explain  or  appreciate  those  special  points  in 
which  his  writings  stand  contrasted  Avith  the  better  known  standards 
within  the  same  communion ;  or  to  extenuate  certain  tendencies  that 
under  a  rigidly  scriptural  test  have  been  held  to  detract  from  that 
purity  and  singleness  of  belief,  which  in  all  general  respects  deseiTcdly 
qualify  him  as  the  most  sound  and  tnistworthy  of  religious  guides. 

The  friend  and  protege  of  Whichcote  and  Cudworth,  with  whom  the 
Platonic  movement  at  Cambridge  is  known  to  have  oi-iginated, — the 
contemporary  and  admirer  of  Henry  More,  and  confidential  pupil  of 
John  Smith,  its  two  most  ardent  and  talented  expositors, — Patrick 
is  specifically  named  by  Burnet  (himself  an  active  partizan  of  liberal 
views)  in  association  with  Stillingfleet  and  Tillotson,  as  most  con- 
spicuous and  influential  in  diffusing  the  broad  principles  of  the 
latitudinariau  school,  in  their  application  to  the  doctrines  and 


EDITOR'S  l^REFACE. 


xliii 


practice  of  religion,  froui  the  most  pi'omiiient  of  the  metropolitan 
pulpits.  Able  and  zealous  preacliei'S,  conscientious  and  indefatiga- 
ble in  discharging  the  practical  duties  of  the  ministry,  at  a  time 
when  the  parochial  clergy  of  London  wielded  a  control  over  public 
opinion  which  has  knoAvn  no  later  parallel,  faithful  guardians  of 
the  rights  of  conscience  and  the  liberties  of  the  realm  in  the  face 
of  a  Romanizing  and  reactionary  court,  such  pastors  commanded 
with  reason  the  confidence  of  their  flocks  during  the  crisis  of  civil 
revolution  and  ecclesiastical  confusion.  To  have  aided  by  precept 
and  example  in  rallying  the  forces  of  religious  conviction  against 
the  encroachments  of  tyi-anny  and  superstition,  while  steadjang  the 
opinions  and  passions  of  the  multitude  through  the  convulsive  efforts 
of  self-emancipation,  must  be  ranked  as  not  the  least  among  the 
many  claims  which  the  Latitude-men  of  that  generation,  and  Patrick 
as  not  their  least  worthy  representative,  must  be  deemed  to  have 
established  to  the  regard  and  veneration  of  posterity. 

But  a  more  express  and  personal  reason  exists  for  cb*awing  atten- 
tion to  the  history  and  tenets  of  the  party  of  Latitude  in  connection 
with  the  present  publication.  The  most  systematic  analysis  and  vin- 
dication of  the  principles  and  designs  of  that  school  has  very  ge- 
nerally been  attributed  to  Patrick's  pen.  It  is  entitled,  "  A  Brief 
Account  of  the  new  sect  of  Latitude-men,  together  with  some  re- 
flections upon  the  new  philosophy,  by  S.  P.  of  Cambridge,  in  answer 
to  a  letter  from  his  friend  G.  B.  of  Oxford ;"  dated,  "  Cambridge, 
June  1 2th,  1662."  The  original  tract,  consisting  of  but  24  pages, 
4to,  has  long  been  extremely  scarce ;  but  its  contents  are  readily 
accessible  in  the  pages  of  the  Phoenix,  (an  invaluable  repertory  of 
rare  tracts  and  pamphlets  belonging  to  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries,  compiled  by  an  anonymous  collector,  and  published  in 
1 707-1 708,)  in  which  it  has  been  reprinted,  vol.  ii.  jip.  499-518  ; 
The  initials  of  the  writer's  name,  together  with  the  known  fact  of 
Patrick's  connection  with  the  school  in  question,  and  a  certain  ge- 
neral similarity  both  in  sentiment  and  style  between  the  letter  of 
S.  P.  and  Patrick's  acknowledged  writings,  have  furnished  plausible 
grounds  for  the  current  opinion  of  its  authorship.  The  editor  has  not- 
withstanding felt  it  to  be  his  duty,  albeit  with  much  l  egret,  to  with- 
hold from  this  valuable  tract  a  place  among  the  present  series.  His 
reasons  for  this  refusal  may  be  succinctly  stated  as  follows  : 


xliv 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


1.  First,  the  total  absence  of  any  allusion  to  the  letter  of  S.  P.  in 
Patrick's  personal  memoir  of  his  owa  life,  in  which  he  has  been  stu- 
diously careful  to  enumerate,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  every  pro- 
duction of  his  pen,  whether  originally  published  anonymously  or 
bearing  his  name,  together  vnth  the  special  circumstances  which  led 
to  its  composition.  His  accuracy  in  this  respect  has  enabled  more 
than  one  work  to  be  assigned  to  him  with  unhesitating  certainty 
which  could  have  been  identified  by  no  other  means  ;  whilst  others 
currently  attributed  to  him  have  been  transferred  to  the  credit 
of  his  brother  John.  His  utter  silence  in  regard  to  the  tract  in 
question  must  be  considered  as  almost  in  itself  a  conclusive  disproof 
of  its  authenticity  1. 

2.  His  minute  statement  of  the  matters  of  personal  interest  by 
which  his  time  and  attention  were  occupied  at  the  date  of  the 
letter  tends  equally  to  preclude  all  likelihood  of  Patrick's  having 
been  the  MTiter.  The  period  in  question  coincides  closely  with 
that  of  the  anxious  and  somewhat  perilous  legal  proceedings  in 
which  he  was  involved  by  his  abortive  election  to  the  master- 
ship of  Queen's  college  "■.  Absorbed  as  he  states  himself  to  have 
been  in  the  prosecution  of  this  suit,  and  harassed  by  the  vexa- 
tious delays  and  illegal  impediments  interposed  by  the  judges,  in 
subser\-ience  to  the  dictates  of  the  com-t,  little  leisure  or  abstrac- 
tion of  thought  would  be  left  him  for  a  speculative  thesis  on  philo- 
sophical reform.  He  had  moreover  for  years  ceased  to  reside  at  the 
university;  and  although  he  had  then  left  behind  him  a  repute  for 
ability  and  scholarship  such  as  induced  his  contemporaries  at  Queen's 
college  almost  unanimously  to  desire  his  retm-n  as  head  of  their 
society,  yet  his  o^vn  decided  tastes  and  inclinations  had  led  him  to 
withdi'aw  fi-om  the  arena  of  academic  speculation  and  polemics  for 
the  more  congenial  labours  of  the  pastoral  office.  His  o^vn  artless 
and  unaffected  recital  shews  how  completely  the  conscientious  dis- 
charge of  these  duties  engrossed  his  energies  and  leisure,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  the  philosophic  studies  of  an  earlier  day. 

1  Kennet  mentions  the  first  appearance  of  the  pamphlet,  but  hazards  no  con- 
jecture as  to  its  author. — Register  and  Chronicle,  p.  709.  As  also  Birch,  p.  326. 

'  See  vol.  ix.  p.  436.  "No  return  being  made  to  the  writ  of  mandamus,  I 
had  an  alias  granted  me  on  the  31st  of  May,  and  June  6th  I  had  a  new  motion 
made  for  me,  which  was  granted  me  i  but  on  the  14th  my  business  was  put 
off  till  next  temi."  He  was  obviously  in  London  during  the  whole  course  of 
those  transactions. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


xlv 


3.  It  may  be  asked,  on  the  other  hand,  who  else  can  be  designated 
by  these  initial  letters,  assuming  them  to  liave  been  intended  bona 
fide  as  a  cloak  for  a  real  personality  %  There  is  certainly  no  indivi- 
vidual  of  note  at  that  date  at  either  university  whose  name  permits 
liim  to  be  satisfactorily  identified  with  the  -m-iter.  It  were  utterly 
irrelevant  to  adduce  the  claims  of  Samuel  Parker,  who,  changeable 
and  elastic  as  his  opinions  indubitably  were,  is  not  known  to  have 
advocated  at  any  period  of  his  career  the  sentiments  of  latitude,  and 
who  actually  put  forth  three  years  later  views  diametrically  opposite 
to,  and  perhaps  in  intentional  contravention  of  those  of"  S.  P.,"  under 
the  title  of  "  A  Free  and  Impartial  Censure  of  the  Platonic  Philo- 
sophy," in  a  letter  to  his  fi-iend  Mr.  Nathaniel  Bisbie.  Besides, 
Oxfoi'd,  not  Cambridge,  was  Parker's  university,  he  having  gi-a- 
duated  B.  A.  at  Wadham,  Feb.  28,  1659-60. 

Another  notable  S.  P.,  Samuel  Pepys,  had  obtained  distinction  at 
Cambridge,  where  he  took  the  degree  of  M.  A.  at  Magdalene  in  1660. 
Frivolous  and  wasteftd  of  his  powers  as  his  Diary  depicts  him  to  have 
been,  Pepys  was  yet  possessed  of  ability  and  wit  quite  sufficient  to 
qualify  him  for  inditing  as  clever  a  hrochure.  But  neither  his  avowed 
sentiments  nor  his  known  avocations  at  the  time  specified  are  at  all 
compatible  with  the  hypothesis  of  his  having  constituted  himself 
the  champion  of  latitudinarian  and  Platonic  innovation. 

It  is  no  less  difficult,  on  the  other  hand,  to  establish  the  identity 
of  the  correspondent  whose  name  may  be  thought  veiled  under  the 
initials  "G.  B."  The  name  of  Gilbert  Burnet  will  doubtless  suggest 
itself  to  most  minds  on  a  first  hasty  conjecture.  Burnet,  it  need 
hardly  be  said,  is  well  known  as  an  active  exponent  of  latitudina- 
rian views,  and  as  having  been,  at  a  later  period  at  least,  on  terms  of 
intimacy  with  Patrick  in  private,  and  nearly  associated  with  him  in 
public  life,  by  the  ties  both  of  official  position  and  party  connection. 
But  Bumet,  it  can  be  clearly  proved,  had  not  at  the  date  specified  ef- 
fected his  fii'.st  journey  into  England.  According  to  his  own  statement 
he  was  actually  in  this  country  during  part  of  the  year  1662.  But 
this  fact,  in  order  to  agree  with  his  son's  completer  narrative,  must  be 
understood,  with  allowance  for  the  subsequent  change  of  style,  aa  really 
coinciding  with  the  first  quarter  of  16633.  It  was  not  till  the  latter 
year  that  he  paid  his  earliest  visit  to  each  of  the  English  universities  in 


•  See  Burnet's  Own  Time,  i.  .{45,  and  Life  by  hia  son,  vi.  740. 


xlvi 


p:DiTOirs  prefacp:. 


succession,  proceeding  to  London,  after  a  short  residence  at  Oxford, 
\vith  lettei'S  of  introduction  to  the  leading  clergy  of  the  metropolis, 
Patrick  among  the  number.  He  was  then  about  the  age  of  nineteen. 
It  is  obvious  from  these  considerations  that  he  could  not  have  been 
in  familiar  coirespondence  Avith  Patrick  so  early  as  the  month  of 
June  in  the  previous  year. 

The  most  probable  conclusion  seems  to  be,  that  no  particular  indi- 
viduals are  really  indicated  by  either  jiair  of  initials.  The  letters 
were  fancifully  and  arbitrarily  adopted  by  the  anonjTnous  wi'itei' 
with  a  \iew  to  eluding  publicity  in  accordance  with  the  common 
usage  of  the  time,  when  the  consequences  of  bold  and  innovating 
statements  were  not  to  be  lightly  disregarded.  No  hj'pothesis 
draAvn  from  them  can  therefore  be  conclusive  as  to  the  authorship 
of  the  tract.  With  respect  to  contents  and  style,  the  letter  of  "  S.  P." 
presents,  it  is  true,  in  its  ■vivacity  and  humour,  many  points  of 
similarity  Avith  Patrick's  "  Friendly  Debate."  It  exposes  the  unmean- 
ing verbiage  and  fanciful  dialectics  of  the  expiring  system  of  the 
schools,  with  much  of  the  same  point  and  irony  which  made  the 
latter  tell  with  so  much  force  upon  the  inflated  and  bombastic  affec- 
tation of  pm-itan  precision.  Certain  peculiar  phrases  and  tm'ns  of 
expression  may  equally  be  noticed  as  of  common  occurrence  in  both. 
Still  there  may  in  such  a  fact  be  nothing  more  than  a  casual  coin- 
cidence in  phraseology,  arising  out  of  the  technical  correspondence 
of  the  argument  in  both  cases,  or  the  current  habit  of  polemical 
language.  Nor  does  the  letter  exhibit  any  of  that  imdertone  of 
serious  pui'pose,  and  constant  reference  to  religious  principle,  which 
characterises  even  Patrick's  most  severe  and  caustic  effusions.  Its 
object  is  to  set  forth  the  rival  agencies  which  were  then  at  work  for 
the  philosophical  regeneration  of  society,  and  contested  the  ascen- 
dancy in  the  intellectual  domain  of  the  universities.  It  traces  in  a 
rapid  and  lively  manner  the  distinctive  spirit  of  the  new  and  old 
philosophies,  and  the  struggle  between  the  naturalistic  and  revo- 

'  The  force  of  this  hypothesis  is  strengthened  by  the  following  allusion  in  a 
contemporary  tract,  An  Answer  to  a  Letter  of  inquiry  (hy  Echard)  into  the 
grounds  and  occasions  of  the  Contempt  of  the  Clergy: — "If  you  know  the 
gentleman,  and  will  give  any  credit  to  him,  who  gives  an  account  of  the  new 
sect  of  Latitude-men,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend  G.  B.,  who  I  believe  may  be  akin 
to  your  friend  B.  L.,  hoth  feigned  persons" — p.  31.  Lend.  1671.  Quoted  in  a  note 
on  Robinson's  Autobiography,  by  the  Eev.  J.  E.  B.  Mayor,  p.  220. 


EDITOR\S  PREFACE. 


xlvii 


lutionary  method  of  Bacon,  and  the  dialectic  subtleties  of  the  middle 
ages.  With  equal  boldness  and  temper  it  vindicates  the  wide  views 
of  religious  truth  and  ecclesiastical  polity  to  which  the  school  of  Lati- 
tude owed  its  appellation.  Repelling  the  idle  and  ignorant  charges 
of  Hobbism,  Socinianism,  and  infidelity,  to  which  their  bold  attempt 
to  meet  those  en-ors  by  an  appeal  to  right  reason  and  natural  law 
had  made  them  liable,  the  m-iter  puts  forth  ably  the  claims  of  his 
pai-ty  to  be  considered  the  truest  fi-iends  of  the  church,  and  soimdest 
defenders  of  orthodoxy ;  rendering  reason  the  trusty  stay  of  religion, 
and  freedom  the  surest  guarantee  of  firm  and  stable  government. 

The  moral  of  the  piece  is  carried  home  in  a  clever  and  spirited 
allegory.  Religion,  or  the  church,  under  the  figure  of  an  ancient 
clock  in  imperfect  unison  with  time,  and  needing  repair,  is  repre- 
sented as  undergoing  the  experimental  treatment  of  sundry  arti- 
ficers, who  impersonate  the  several  sects  of  philosophy  in  their  rela- 
tion to  spiritual  truth. 

The  Peripatetic  or  scholastic  system,  the  Cartesian  or  idealist,  the 
Atomistic  or  that  of  Malmesbury,  and  the  naturalistic  or  Baconian, 
have  each  its  representative  in  the  controversy  ;  who,  one  and  all, 
dilate  amusingly  upon  their  respective  nostrums  for  the  reparation 
of  the  time-worn  structure.  Their  wrangling  proving  ineffectual,  a 
moving  appeal  is  finally  put  forth  for  the  reintroduction  of  Christ- 
ianity to  "  her  old  loving  nurse,  the  Platonick  philosophy."  "  True 
philosophy,"  it  is  earnestly  and  convincingly  argued,  "  can  never 
hurt  sound  divinity,  nor  vnW  it  be  possible  otherwise  to  fi-ee  religion 
from  scorn  and  contempt,  if  her  priests  be  not  as  well  skilled  in 
nature  as  the  people,  and  her  champions  furnished  with  as  good 
artillery  as  her  enemies." 

Be  this  little  tract,  however,  the  genuine  work  of  Patrick  or  not, 
it  is  unquestionably  in  general  sentiment  and  scope  such  as  might 
consistently  have  been  written  by  him,  or  by  any  equally  able  and 
zealous  upholder  of  the  principles  of  right  reason  in  union  Avith  soxmd 
religion.  It  maybe  read  with  interest  and  profit  in  connection  wth 
his  writings,  as  the  most  exact  and  authoritative  exponent  in  theory 
of  sentiments  which  he  was  among  the  first  to  adopt  and  exemplify 
in  practice,  as  the  rule  of  his  ministiy  to  spiritual  and  intellectual 
progress, — sentiments  which,  then  prophetic,  have  since  made  for 
themselves  a  place  and  a  i)ower,  and  having  survived  the  prejudices 


xlviii 


?:ditor'S  prb:face. 


and  passions  of  two  hundred  years,  are  still  bearinj^  fruit  in  increas- 
ing truth,  fi-eedom,  enlightenment,  and  concord. 

While  assigning  to  Patrick  a  place  of  the  highest  eminence  among 
the  theologians  of  his  time,  no  attempt  need  be  made  to  challenge  on 
his  behalf  any  invidious  comparison  of  intellectual  merit  -with  those 
great  names  which  the  church  of  England  has  ever  justly  cherished 
as  those  of  her  chiefest  luminaries.  Such  a  contrast  of  personal 
pretensions  were  not  less  detrimental  to  his  fair  claims  as  an  in- 
genious, spiritually-minded  and  truthful  wiiter,  than  it  would  have 
been  abhorrent  from  his  own  diffident  estimate  of  his  powers,  and 
innate  insensibility  to  the  pride  or  conceit  of  literaiy  fame. 

It  is  by  no  such  jealous  equation  of  individual  merits  that  his 
true  place  in  the  scale  of  contemporary  intellect  is  to  be  deter- 
mined. Neither  in  graceful  erudition,  in  teeming  fancy,  in  the 
poet's  power  to  kindle  or  to  melt  the  soul,  in  subtlety  of  thought 
or  melody  of  phrase,  may  he  claim  to  impugn  the  supremacy 
of  Jeremy  Taylor.  In  gravely  balanced  scholarship,  in  logical 
tenacity  and  critical  acumen,  he  may  hold  no  rivalry  with  Pearson, 
any  more  than  he  emulates  Bull  in  the  vigour  of  his  dialectics, 
or  the  precision  and  depth  of  his  dogmatic  definitions.  In 
polemical  warfare  his  arguments  may  disappoint  us  of  the  clear- 
ness, breadth,  and  nervous  energy  of  Chillingworth ;  while  in  deli- 
neating the  finer  distinctions  of  human  duty,  or  broad  niles  of  moral 
practice,  we  may  allow  to  Sanderson  a  firmer  and  more  masculine 
grasp  of  casuistry  and  ethics.  Few  will  perhaps  discern,  either 
in  his  didactic  essays  or  homiletic  remains,  the  secret  of  that  unsur- 
passed ascendency  which  he  is  known  to  have  wielded  over  his 
readers  in  the  closet,  and  his  auditory  in  the  congregation.  His 
eloquence  in  the  pulpit,  as  specimens  of  its  quality  have  come  down 
to  us,  certainly  sufiers  by  comparison  with  the  measm-ed  dignity 
and  rhythm  of  Barrow,  or  even  the  smooth  and  polished  gi-ace  of  Til- 
lotson.  In  his  devotional  eflusions  he  cannot  be  said  habitually  or 
even  often  to  have  attained  the  simple  purity  of  Wilson  or  the 
angelic  tenderness  of  Ken.  There  is  nevertheless  an  order  of  merit 
in  some  respects  secondaiy,  Avhich,  availing  itself  of  many  and 
wider  points  of  contact,  will  raise  itself  by  accumulative  force  to  a 
degree  of  rank  not  far  from  the  highest.    Looking  to  the  extent 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


xlix 


and  variety  of  his  labours, — to  the  wide  field  which  he  has  trodden, 
if  not  with  the  commanding  step  of  genius,  yet  with  the  patient 
foot  of  disciplined  and  earnest  toil, — ti'aversing,  as  he  has  done, 
well-nigh  every  province  of  thought,  in  which  each  of  his  great 
competitors  made  for  the  most  part  singly  for  himself  the  path- 
way to  renown, — to  have  risen  to  so  close  a  proximity  to  each  in 
his  individual  walk  of  culture,  may  be  held  no  trivial  meed  of  com- 
mendation. 

Patrick  must  in  fairness  be  judged  not  so  much  by  the  brilliance 
or  originality  of  his  writings,  as  by  their  solidity,  accuracy  and 
breadth  of  range  ;  by  the  comprehensiveness,  vigour,  and  fecundity, 
rather  than  the  boldness  or  novelty  of  his  mental  gifts.  Not  a  line 
that  he  has  Avritten  but  is  marked  by  practical  good  sense,  earnest- 
ness of  purpose,  and  total  unconsciousness  of  display.  Had  he  been 
more  studious  of  effect,  he  could  well  have  commanded  greater  grace 
and  elegance  of  diction  ;  as,  had  he  concentrated  his  powers  upon 
a  nan'ower  range  of  subjects,  he  might  without  doubt  have  vied 
more  nearly  with  the  most  distinguished  exemplars  of  learning  and 
genius.  In  the  various  and  not  often  compatible  tasks  of  theo- 
logian, critic,  metaphysician,  moralist,  antiquary,  polemic,  casuist, 
liturgist,  biographer,  and  poet,  to  attain  the  absolute  summit  of  ex- 
cellence was  scarcely  within  the  powers  of  a  single  man.  To  have 
secured  even  average  success,  without  sinking  into  utter  mediocrity  or 
failure,  is  more  than  could  have  been  anticipated  from  most  men.  Nor 
should  it  be  overlooked  that  the  copious  and  multiform  fruits  of  his 
toil  were  fostered  by  no  lettered  ease  or  academic  retirement,  but 
amassed,  as  it  were,  by  stealth,  in  such  scanty  intei'vals  of  leisure 
as  could  be  snatched  from  the  harassing  duties  of  the  pastoral  and 
episcopal  oflSce,  by  one  of  the  most  strenuous  of  parish  priests,  and 
most  indefatigable  of  prelates.  A  vigorous  understanding,  full  and 
liberal  eindition,  unbiassed  judgment,  a  conscientious  sense  and  love 
of  truth,  untiring  and  enthusiastic  energy  in  his  Master's  service,  a 
pei-vading  and  well-gi'ounded  belief,  warm  and  deep  yet  sober  and 
regulated  piety,  high  gifts  of  intellect  held  in  unreserved  subjection 
to  the  authority  of  revealed  truth, — these  are  qualities  in  a  Christian 
teacher  for  which  the  most  fastidious  critic  may  well  condone  such 
occasional  blemishes  as  those  of  hasty  or  desidtory  composition, 
and  a  fancy  sometimes  overstrained  or  mystic  ;  or  such  casual  sins 
against  terseness  and  elegance  of  style,  as  in  a  purely  literary  point 

d 


1 


EDITORS  PREFACE. 


of  view  may  be  allowed  to  detract  at  times  ft'om  the  power  and 
charm  of  Patrick's  witings". 

In  the  arrangement  of  a  mass  of  compositions  so  miscellaneous  in 
matter  and  subject,  and  extending  over  so  wide  a  period  of  time,  as 
the  wi-itings  of  bishop  Patrick,  it  was  obviously  impossible  to  main- 
tain throughout  any  single  and  uniform  principle  of  classification. 
That  mode  of  distribution  has  in  consequence  been  adopted,  which 
might  best  admit  of  each  work  severally  being  read  in  natural  and 
consecutive  order  with  those  which  treat  of  the  same  subject  or  theme, 
and  yet  interfere  as  little  as  possible  with  that  continuous  sequence 
in  point  of  time,  which  exhibits  most  faithfully  the  progress  of  a 
writer's  mind,  and  forms  the  most  systematic  accompaniment  to  his 
personal  history.  The  contents  of  these  volumes  have  been  distri- 
buted in  accordance  with  this  twofold  method.  They  are  grouped 
together,  in  the  first  instance,  according  to  the  affinity  of  their 
subject-matter.  Under  every  such  general  head  or  category,  each 
separate  work  is  assigned  its  place  in  accordance  with  the  date  of 
publication  ;  the  second  or  chronological  order  being  thus  subordi- 
nated to  the  natural  or  analytical  division  of  subjects.  It  was  not 
found  possible,  desirable  as  it  must  generally  be,  so  to  apportion  the 
several  works  constituting  the  entire  edition,  as  that  those  under  each 
homogeneous  division  should  be  comprised  in  one  or  more  distinct 
volume  or  volumes  ;  except  by  sacrificing  every  consideration  of  uni- 
formity in  the  extent  and  bulk  of  the  latter.  As  it  is,  they  fall  without 
much  arbitrary  derangement  mider  the  following  seven  general  heads, 
under  which  the  individual  members  of  the  same  series  follow  each 
other  in  the  order  of  publication  ;  a  rule  which  it  has  only  been 
necessary  to  infi-inge  in  one  or  two  instances,  for  certain  specific 
reasons  connected  with  the  sequence  of  their  subjects 

o  It  would  be  uncandid  not  to  admit  the  force  of  Lord  Macaulay's  criticism, 
severe  and  indiscriminate  as  it  may  well  be  thought,  on  this  undeniable  in- 
firmity of  Patrick's  literary  style. — History  of  England,  vol.  iii.  p.  476. 

"  Not  a  few  of  Patrick's  discourses  of  the  first  four  classes  were  originally 
drawn  up  in  the  form  of  sermons,  and  still  retain  much  of  the  didactic  style 
and  personal  mode  of  appeal  which  are  appropriately  indicative  of  ad- 
dresses from  the  pulpit.  A  new  designation,  however,  having  been  bestowed 
upon  them  hy  the  author,  and  their  original  homiletic  shape  considerably  modi- 
fied prior  to  the  act  of  publication,  it  was  thought  that  they  might  with  pro- 
priety be  transfen'ed  from  the  category  of  Sennons  to  the  place  indicated  by 
their  respective  subjects,  in  the  class  of  substantive  Treatises  or  Discourses. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


li 


I.  Sacramental  and  devotional  treatises;  including  i.  'Aqua 
Genitalis'  or  A  Discourse  on  Baptism;  2.-5.  '  Mensa  Mystica' 
and  three  other  works  relating  to  the  Lord's  Supper ;  6.  A  Brief 
Exposition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  and  Ten  Commandments  ;  and 
7.  the  comprehensive  manual  of  devotion  entitled,  The  Devout 
Christian  instructed  how  to  pray  and  give  thanks  to  God, 
&c.    These  occupy  the  first  and  half  of  the  second  volume. 

II.  Treatises  relating  to  the  evidences  of  the  Christian 
Religion  ;  viz.  i.  Jesus  and  the  Resurrection  justified,  or  The 
Witnesses  to  Christianity,  in  two  parts  ;  and  2.  The  Glorious 
Epiphany,  comprised  in  the  remaining  half  of  the  second  and  the 
greater  part  of  the  thiixl  volume.  In  order  to  render  this  volume 
approximately  uniform  in  size  with  the  rest,  another  piece  oppor- 
tunely suitable  iu  length  is  added,  which  is  properly  reducible  to  the 
third  class  of  the  author's  writings,  viz. 

III.  Moral  and  consolatory  discourses,  or  works  relating  to 
Christian  practice ;  viz.,  i.  Heart's  Ease,  with  its  apjiendices ;  2.  Ad- 
vice to  a  Friend;  3.  The  Parable  of  the  Pilgrim ,  6.  Treatise 
ON  Fasting  ;  7.  Discourse  concerning  Prayer.  This  series 
exactly  completes  the  firet  four  volumes. 

IV.  Polemical  writincs,  divisible  into  two  classes  :  the  first 
devoted  to  the  controversy  with  Protestant  dissent  ;  the  second 
directed  against  the  corruptions  of  Romanism.  To  the  former  liead 
belong,  I.  Jewish  Hypocrisy,  <fec.,  to  which  is  appended.  The 
Epitome  of  Man's  duty  ;  2.  The  Friendly  Debate,  in  three 
parts,  with  Appendix  and  Postscript ;  3.  Discourse  of  profit- 
ing by  sermons  ;  4.  Letter  to  Standish  ;  and  5.  Falsehood 
Unmasked,  in  continuation  of  the  same  topic.  The  fifth  and  two- 
thirds  of  the  sixth  volume  are  occupied  with  these  controversial 
writings  upon  non-conformity.  The  remainder  of  the  sixth  and  more 
than  half  of  the  seventh  are  devoted  to  nine  separate  treatises  against 
the  distinctive  errors  of  Romanism,  beginning  with  the  Discourse 
about  Tradition,  and  ending  with  the  shoi-t  fragment  "On  Schism," 
now  published  for  the  first  time  from  the  author's  manuscript. 

V.  Sermons,  charges,  and  minor  works  connected  with  the 
office  of  the  ministry.  The  author's  writings  under  this  head 
comprise  twenty-six  miscellaneous  semnons,  published  in  tlie  first 
instance  separately,  and  mostly  in  connection  with  the  death  of 

d  2 


lii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


friends,  or  some  special  occasion  or  solemnity  of  a  public  kind  ;  four 
discoui*ses  or  charges  addressed  to  the  clergy  of  the  diocese  of  Ely, 
(extending  to  the  close  of  the  eighth  volume  ;)  seventeen  posthumous 
sermons,  private  prayers  on  certain  particular  occasions,  visitation 
articles  and  episcopal  letters,  and  the  form  of  Consecration  of  the 
chapel  of  St.  Catharine's  Hall,  Cambridge. 

^     VI.   P0E.MS   UPOX   DIVINE   AND   MORAL   SUBJECTS,  poSthumOUsly 

published. 

VII.  Autobiography  and  Appendix. 

It  has  not  been  thought  requisite  or  desirable  to  include  among 
the  present  series  of  Patrick's  collected  wTitings  his  Commentaries 
and  Paraphrases  upon  Holy  Scripture.  Not  only  would  the  ad- 
dition of  so  voluminous  a  mass  of  matter  have  more  than  doubled 
the  bulk  of  the  present  publication,  but  the  more  important  portion 
of  their  nimiber  being  already  so  easily  accessible  to  the  public  in 
a  popular  and  serviceable  form,  at  no  immoderate  expense,  a  new 
impression  of  the  whole  maj-  well  be  considered  uncalled  for  and 
superfluous  J". 

y  The  following  is  a  complete  list  of  Patrick's  Pamphrases  and  Commen- 
taries, and  of  the  principal  editions  of  each. 

The  book  of  Job  paraphrased,  8vo.  London,    1^79 

The   book   of  Psalms   paraphrased,  with  arguments   to  each  chapter, 

8to.  1680,  1691. 

The  Proverbs  of  Solomon  paraphrased,  with  the  arguments  of  each  chapter, 

which  supply  the  place  of  a  commentary.    8to.  1683 

A  Paraphrase  upon  the  books  of  Ecclesiastes,  and  the  Song  of  Solomon,  with 
arguments  to  each  chapter  and  annotations  thereupon.      . .     8vo.  1681,  1685 
The  entire  series  was  reprinted  uniformly  in  two  volumes  4to  in  i  ;io,  in  one 
folio  volume  in  1731,  and  again  in  1743. 

Commentary  on  Grenesis   4to.  1694 

  Exodus   1697 

  Leviticus.    1698 

  Numbers.    1699 

  Deuteronomy.    1700 

  Joshua,  Judges,  and  Kuth   1702 

  First  and  Second  books  of  Samuel   1 703 

  First  and  Second  books  of  Kings.    1 705 

  Chronicles,  Ezra,  Xehemiah,  and  Esther   1706 

The  whole  series  of  Commentaries  was  republished  in  an  uniform  shape  in 
two  volumes  folio  in  1727,  a  fourth  time  in  1732,  a  fifth  in  1738,  &c. 

The  Commentaries  and  Paraphra-se-s  united,  embracing  the  whole  of  the  His- 
torical books  and  Hagiographa,  have  in  recent  times  been  supplemented  by  the 
addition  of  the  comments  of  Lowlh  on  the  Prophets,  Aniald  on  the  Apo- 
eryijha.  Whitby  on  the  Xew  Testament,  and  Lowman  on  the  Apocalypse ;  con- 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


liii 


Two  other  publications,  iu  which  Patrick  had  a  share  of  some 
importance,  have  likc'Nvise  been  exchided,  as  being  only  in  part,  and  not 
primarily  or  substantially  his  compositions.  One  of  these  consists 
of  an  edition  of  the  remains  of  Dr.  Walter  Raleigh,  with  an  account 
of  the  life  of  that  divine  contributed  by  Patrick,  and  prefixed  to  the 
volume  The  other  is  a  History  of  Peterborough  Cathedral,  pre- 
pared to  a  great  extent  by  Dr.  Simon  Gunton,  a  prebendary  of  that 
church,  and  left  incomplete  at  his  death.  The  task  of  finishing  it 
for  publication  was  undertaken  by  Patrick  on  his  accession  to  the 
deanery  of  Peterborough  in  1679*.  Patrick's  exact  share  in  the 
authorship  of  this  work,  though  beyond  a  doubt  preponderating  far 
over  that  of  his  earlier  coadjutor,  cannot  be  determined  with  suffi- 
cient precision  to  justify  its  pretensions  to  a  place  among  his  au- 
thentic and  undisputed  remains,  even  had  the  subject  admitted  of 
its  forming  part  of  a  series  generally  theological  in  character. 

With  the  sole  exception  of  the  Avorks  omitted  for  these  reasons, 
the  reader  may  be  assured  that  he  has  now  before  him  every  genuine 
publication  of  this  estimable  prelate.  No  little  difficulty  indeed 
had  to  be  encountered  in  the  task  of  bringing  together  the  numerous 
scattered  pieces  which  make  up  the  collective  series.  Several  of 
the  number,  more  especially  the  earlier  editions,  have  now  become 
excessively  scarce,  some  in  fact  of  such  extreme  rai-ity  that  it 
was  found  requisite  to  obtain  transcripts  for  the  use  of  the 
printer  from  unique  or  scarce  copies  in  the  libraries  of  the  British 
Museum,  the  Universities,  or  other  public  repositories.  The  labour 
of  collection  at  length  accomplished,  it  became  the  editor's  next  task 

stituting  a  body  of  biblical  exposition  at  once  the  most  complete  and  in  all  general 
respects  the  most  valuable  in  the  language.  Numerous  issues  of  these  volumes 
have  been  made,  e.g.  in  1809,  1822,  1842,  1853,  &c.,  which  continue  in  constant 
demand,  evincing  the  permanent  popularity  and  usefulness  of  the  series. 

In  the  year  1667  Patrick  drew  up  a  short  paraphrase  upon  the  ninth  chapter 
of  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  which  he  only  permitted  to  circulate  in 
private,  not  having  written  it  with  a  view  to  publication.  "  It  was  composed," 
he  says,  "for  the  satisfaction  of  a  friend,  who  feared  he  was  under  the  sentence 
of  reprobation.  What  effect  it  had  upon  him  I  am  not  able  to  say,  for  he  was  a 
silent  man,  and  very  melancholy  all  his  days  ;  but  I  hope  it  was  beneficial  to 
others  who  got  copies  of  it." — Vol.  ix.  p.  449. 

This  short  and  fragmentary  work  having  been  recently  discovered  among 
Patrick's  other  remains  in  MS.  was  published  as  an  Appendix  to  his  Autobio- 
graphy in  1839.  duplicate  copy  is  also  extant  in  the  department  of  manu- 
fcripts  in  the  Lambeth  LiVjrary  {787). 

•  See  vol.  ix.  p.  470.  »  Vol.  ix.  p.  484. 


lir 


EDlTOirS  PKEFACI-: 


to  arrange  and  classify  the  whole.  The  rule  of  distribution  whicli 
he  finally  resolved  on  adopting  has  already  been  explained.  To 
decide  upon  the  most  perfect  and  authentic  text  formed  occasionally  a 
farther  source  of  perplexity;  the  different  editions,  in  some  instances 
vei-y  numerous,  exhibiting  not  a  few  discrepancies  of  reading.  As 
a  general  rule,  the  text  of  the  latest  edition  published  during  the 
author's  lifetime  has  been  followed  as  the  most  genuine  standard, 
corrected,  in  cases  of  palpable  eiTors  of  the  press,  by  the  aid  of 
collation  with  the  rest,  the  various  readings  being  in  all  but  triinal 
instances  indicated  in  the  notes.  It  has  been  the  earnest  endeavour 
of  the  editor  not  merely  to  verify'  the  author's  authorities  and  quo- 
tations, (In  itself  a  task  of  no  mean  labour  or  difficulty,)  but  to  eluci- 
date by  means  of  notes,  for  the  assistance  of  the  general  reader,  such 
points  of  history  or  criticism  as  might  be  in  themselves  obscure,  or 
fi-om  lapse  of  time  less  familiar  to  the  public  than  they  originally 
were  to  contemporaneous  readers.  In  points  which  admitted  a 
difference  of  constniction  he  has  regarded  it  as  his  proper  task  and 
duty  not  so  much  to  advance  his  o^rn  individual  opinions,  as  to 
place  in  the  hands  of  the  theological  student  the  materials  for  form- 
ing an  mibiassed  judgment.  His  further  aim  has  been  to  point  out, 
where  it  was  possible,  the  origin  and  source  of  every  anecdote  or 
allusion  with  which  the  wi-iter  has  illustrated  his  pages. 

The  additional  matter  contributed  by  the  editor  is  distinguished 
uniformly  from  the  words  of  his  author  by  being  included  within 
brackets. 

It  has  not  been  considered  as  falling  Avithin  the  proper  limits 
of  the  editorial  office  to  anticipate  the  judgment  of  the  reader,  by 
instituting  any  systematic  or  detailed  criticism  of  the  contents  of  the 
following  volumes,  on  theological  or  literary  gi-ounds.  All  that  re- 
mains of  the  strict  design  of  these  prefatory  remarks  is  to  present 
in  the  most  condensed  and  succinct  form  such  minor  points  of 
bibliographical  or  historical  interest  connected  with  these  several 
works,  as  have  been  accumulated  during  the  process  of  preparing 
them  for  the  press,  together  with  such  additional  facts  or  notices 
as  have  come  into  the  editor's  possession,  in  illustration  of  the 
author's  personal  biography.  Most  if  not  all  of  this  able  prelate's 
successive  compositions  afford  scope  for  a  more  minute  and  searching 
notice  than  that  which  is  now  submitted  to  the  student.  What  is 
here  sought  is  simply  to  connect  them  intelligibly  with  the  general 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Iv 


history  of  the  time,  and  with  the  controversies  out  of  which  they 
severally  arose,  or  to  which  they  in  turn  gave  rise ;  thus  supplying 
information  upon  particular  matters  of  fact,  which  many  readers 
may  wish  to  possess,  but  which  could  only  be  gleaned  by  each  singly 
for  himself,  at  the  cost  of  a  very  disproportionate  outlay  of  time  and 
research. 


Aqua  Genitalis,  or  A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 

This  little  work,  the  earliest  publication  bearing  the  writer's  name, 
consists  of  a  sermon  preached  at  the  baptism  of  the  infant  son  of  a 
friend,  Mr.  Vaughan,  termed  by  Patrick  "  a  minister  in  Lombard 
Street*","  whom,  in  the  absence  of  more  definite  information,  we  may 
surmise  to  have  belonged  to  the  presbyterian  persuasion.  His  name 
occurs  neither  in  the  list  of  the  episcopalian  clergy  compiled  by  New- 
court  from  the  registry  of  the  diocese,  nor  yet  in  that  of  the  noncon- 
forming ministers  expelled  from  their  livings  on  St.  Bartholomew's 
day,  1662.  If,  as  seems  most  jirobable,  he  held  the  benefice  of  one 
of  the  sequestered  clergy  under  the  reign  of  the  Directory  and  the 
Commonwealth,  he  must  have  vacated  it  by  death  or  resignation 
prior  to  the  latter  date.  The  discourse  was  made  public  at 
Vaughan's  request,  backed  by  the  importunity  of  Patrick's  valued 
friend  and  contemporary  at  college,  Samuel  Jacomb.  Prefixed  to 
it  is  a  commendatory  letter  bearing  the  initials  of  the  former. 

Occasion  was  taken  by  Patrick  of  this  publication  to  append  some 
supplementary  remarks  upon  the  nature  and  importance  of  the  rite 
of  Confirmation,  which,  during  the  suppression  of  the  church's  func- 
tions, had  been  suffered  to  lapse  into  almost  total  desuetude.  So 
serious  a  blank  in  the  means  of  training  up  the  young  in  habits  of 
religion  had  some  time  befoi-e  induced  Baxter  and  others  of  the 
more  moderate  presbyterians  to  advocate  a  revival  of  the  same  or 
an  equivalent  rite,  as  a  ratification  of  the  baptismal  covenant ;  to 
whose  good  offices  in  that  direction  Patrick  alludes  in  terms  of 
special  praise. 

The  preface  to  the  first  edition  of  Aqua  Genitalis  is  dated  Nov.  6. 
1 658.  It  was  published  in  a  small  1 2mo  volume  before  the  end  of  that 
year,  though  the  titlepage  bears  date  1659.  A  second  impression 
followed  in  8vo.  in  1667,  and  a  third  in  1670,  accompanied  by  a 

Vol.  ix.  p.  430. 


]vi 


EDITOR  S  PREFACE. 


reprint  of  tlie  author's  Meiisa  Mystica,  though  separately  paged. 
A  fouith  was  issued  independently  in  1684,  the  text  of  which  has 
been  taken  as  the  basis  of  the  present  reprint ;  a  fifth  in  1702. 

Without  pretending  to  the  character  of  a  formal  treatise  upon  so 
wide  and  A-ital  a  subject,  the  chief  aspects  of  Christian  baptism  are  re- 
v-iewed  in  tliis  brief  discourse  in  a  sufficiently  systematic,  albeit  chiefly 
practical  manner.  The  nature  of  the  sacrament,  the  persons  who  are 
designed  to  participate  in  it,  and  the  conditions  requisite  for  its  due 
reception,  form  the  three  successive  heads  of  address.  The  wi-iter's 
statements  upon  these  weighty  points  of  doctinne  are  characterized 
throughout  by  singular  clearness  and  simplicity ;  together  -vntY^  un- 
swerving fidelity  to  scriptural  truth,  and  an  elevation  of  tone  which, 
considering  the  low  \"iews  of  sacramental  grace  then  extensively 
prevalent,  cannot  fail  to  attract  the  notice  and  adnm-ation  of  church- 
men. The  custom  of  infant  baptism  had  for  a  whole  generation 
been  so  widely  and  habitually  infi-inged,  owing  to  the  prevalence  of 
Baptist  or  Anabaptist  tenets,  that  the  arguments  for  its  restoration 
needed  to  be  stated  with  peculiar  force.  A  wider  view,  moreover, 
in  treating  of  the  baptismal  theme,  became  for  the  same  reasons  com- 
pulsory, than  that  which  would  restrict  itself  to  the  effects  produced  by 
the  sacred  rite  upon  recipients  in  the  passive  and  imconscious  state  of 
childhood.  In  the  case  of  adults,  unchanged  as  are  the  conditions  on 
the  side  of  God,  in  the  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  a  vast  interval 
has  to  be  allowed  for  in  the  state  aiid  capabilities  of  man.  The  meet- 
ness  of  the  infant,  free  fi-om  actual  sin,  for  the  kingdom  of  God,  rests 
upon  considerations  which  are  necessiirily  excluded  fi-om  the  case 
even  of  the  worthiest  of  those  who,  from  remorseful  experience  of 
the  need  of  cleansing  and  renewal,  seek  an  enti'ance  into  the  chm-ch 
through  the  laver  of  regeneration.  A  definition  of  man's  preparatoiy 
state  and  God's  prevenieut  agency  is  then  called  for,  wliich  may  em- 
brace the  twofold  problem,  not  only  of  original  but  of  committed  sin. 
The  theory  of  absolute  regeneration  in  baptism  ex  opere  operato  has 
genei'ally  been  argued  M'ith  a  single  reference  to  the  instance  of  infant 
reception.  The  greater  mystery  and  difficulty  which  suiTounds  the 
question,  when  the  elements  of  consciousness  and  volition,  invoUnng 
]>ersonal  faith  and  conduct,  are  introduced,  cannot  be  so  readily  dis- 
posed of  as  many  more  recent  writers  upon  this  abstruse  doctrine  seem 
hastily  to  liave  assumed.  On  the  whole,  turning  fi"om  extreme  and 
unqualified  statements  on  cither  side,  tliere  is  much  wisdom  in  the 


EDITOirs  PEE  FACE. 


Ivii 


reverent  and  gnarded  Inugnage  in  wliicli  so  excellent  u  divine  ex- 
presses himself  upon  this  intricate  and  controverted  tojjic.  Without 
presuming  to  define  dogmatically  the  exact  limits  of  the  divine  and 
human  agencies,  in  their  mutual  cooperation  upon  the  soul,  the 
aspect  in  which  he  regards  this  sacrament  is  essentially  the  practical 
and  scriptural  one  of  a  Covenant ;  the  blessings  divinely  guai'anteed 
being  suspended  upon  the  concurrent  action  of  the  recipient,  but 
unfiiilingly  bestowed  in  exact  concomitance  with  the  fidfilment  by 
man  of  the  stipulated  conditions  of  Christ's  Gospel. 

"  Upon  due  consideration,"  he  declares,  "  I  believe  we  shall  find 
that  to  be  baptized  expresseth  something  on  our  part,  and  some- 
thing on  God's,  both  which,  put  together,  make  it  a  federal  rite, 
whereby  we  and  God  enter  into  a  covenant  and  agi-eement  together, 
and  mutually  engage  to  the  performance  of  several  things,  which  are 
all  to  our  behoof  or  benefit." 

In  opposition  to  the  low  and  unscriptural  views  then  unhajjpily 
prevalent,  which  would  reduce  it  to  a  bare  and  hollow  form,  or 
a  symbol  merely  subjectively  efficacious,  he  protests  that  "  it  is  not 
a  naked  ceremony,  that  neither  doth  good  nor  harm,  as  some  men 
seem  to  speak,  against  the  constant  sense  of  the  church  and  people 
of  God  ;"  and  does  not  hesitate  to  rank  it  among  the  chief  blessings 
and  privileges  secured  to  every  faithful  pai-ticipator  in  the  sacra- 
mental ordinance,  that  "  hereby  we  are  regenerated  and  born  again. 
It  is  the  sacrament  of  the  new  birth,  by  which  we  are  put  into 
a  new  state,  and  change  all  our  relations,  so  that  whereas  before  we 
were  only  the  children  of  Adam,  we  are  now  taken  to  be  the  chil- 
dren of  God ;  such  of  whom  he  will  have  a  fatherly  care,  and  be 
indulgent  and  merciful  unto.  We  have  a  relation  like\vise  to  Christ 
our  Head,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  the  giver  of  life  and  grace. 
Yea,  herein  he  gi-ants  remission  of  sins,  and  we  are  sanctified  and 
set  apai't  to  his  uses*^." 

Both  treatise  and  preface  are  marked  throughout  by  dei)th  of 
piety  and  elegance  of  thought ;  as  well  as  by  much  of  that  subtle 
and  somewhat  mystical  vein  of  fancy  which  has  been  already  traced 
lo  the  writer's  early  indoctrination  with  Platonic  and  talmudic 
lore 

Vol.  i.  p.  1 4. 

Attention  may  deservedly  be  directed  to  the  characteristic  and  expressive 
device  or  motto  selected  by  Patrick  for  the  titlepage  of  his  treatise  on  Christ- 
ian baptism — Ni'ifor  ai'iifojjua  ^ut)  finvay  o\f/ii'.    The  origin  of  this  most  exquisite 


Iviii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


specimen  of  the  kind  of  verse  known  as  palindromic  or  retrograde,  its  construc- 
tion being  such  as  to  admit  of  its  being  read  inversely,  from  right  to  left,  as  well 
as  from  left  to  right,  has  never  been  satisfactorily  elucidated.  Frequently 
as  it  has  been  quoted  by  English  writers,  (as  by  Jeremy  Taylor  in  his  Life  of 
Christ,  part  I.  sect.  ix.  disc.  6.  Works,  vol.  iv.  p.  ■235,)  and  habitually  as  it  has 
for  centuries  served  as  an  appropriate  inscription  upon  fonts,  holy  water  vessels, 
and  ecclesiastical  lavatories,  no  distinct  clue  to  its  authorship  has  been  yet 
obtained.  On  the  authority  of  a  passage  in  Grelot's  "Relation  noavelle  d'un 
voyage*  de  Constantinople,"  a  work  admirable  for  its  minuteness  of  research 
and  fidelity  of  description,  and  embellished  with  carefully  executed  topogra- 
phical engravings,  the  inference  has  been  lately  drawn,  that  the  line  could  be 
traced  to  an  inscription  in  the  Moslemized  church  of  St.  Sophia,  originally 
erected  by  Justinian,  A.  D.  537,  but  since  the  capture  of  Constantinople  in 
1454,  converted  to  the  purposes  of  a  mosque.  (See  Notes  and  Queries,  vii.  41  7^ 
and  the  editor's  note  on  Jeremy  Taylor,  I.  c.  in  the  later  impressions.)  This  in- 
ference is  not  however  borne  out  by  the  text  of  Grelot's  narrative. 

Describing  two  urns  of  marble,  placed  by  the  Turks  one  on  each  side  of  the 
entrance  from  the  nave  into  the  dome,  for  the  purpose  of  performing  the  pre- 
liminary ablutions  prescribed  by  the  Mohamedan  ritual,  or  refreshing  them- 
selves during  the  ferv  our  of  devotion,  Grelot  illustrates  their  use  by  a  com- 
parison with  the  benitiers,  or  holy  water  vessels,  familiar  to  the  worshippers  in 
churches  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  communions.  L'Histoire  observe  qiCil  y  avail 
quflque  grand  vase  phin  d'eau,  ou  les  fi deles  se  lavoient  ordinairement  le  visage, 
ou  tout  ail  moins  les  yeiuc,  pour  leur  montrer  qiCih  devoient  estre  ea-tremement 
purifies  pour  se  presenter  devant  la  majeste  d'un  Dieu  que  les  anges  n'osent  envi- 
sager.  Ces  vases  estoient  comme  les  eau-benistiers  des  eglises  catholiques :  et  Von 
remarque  mesme  quil  y  avoit  ecrit  au-dessus  en  lettres  d'or  ce  beau  vers  Grec  re- 
trograde, Ni'vfioc  a.v6iirifiaTa  /ui)  fiSvav  uif/iv. — p.  196.  l2mo..  Par.  1681  ;  p.  161.  4to., 
Par.  1689  ;  p.  133.  of  the  English  translation  by  J.  Philips,  1683. 

It  is  clear  that  Grelot  is  here  no  longer  speaking  in  particular  of  the  Turkish 
urns  in  St.  Sophia's,  but  of  the  general  usage  of  lustral  vessels  similar  in  form 
in  Christian  churches  :  nor  does  he  at  all  imply  that  the  verse  in  question  was 
inscribed  upon  or  over  either  of  the  two  seen  by  him.  He  is  adverting  histori- 
cally to  the  custom  derived  from  the  earliest  times,  -which  prescribed  the  dedi- 
cation of  a  similar  vessel,  quelqae  grand  rase,  for  purposes  of  bodily  purification. 

The  truth  in  all  probability  is,  that  Grelot,  an  accomplished  scholar  and 
antiquarian,  no  less  than  an  observant  and  enterprising  traveller,  was  led  to 
incorporate  this  closing  illustration  by  the  note  of  Ducange  upon  the  metrical 
description  of  St.  Sophia's,  written  by  Paul  the  Silentiary  or  private  secretary  of 
Justinian,  and  recited  by  him  at  the  emperor's  second  dedication  of  that  edifice 
in  562.  On  Paul's  account  of  the  Xnvrrip  or  <piaKri  attached  to  Justinian's 
church  Ducange  adjoins  the  comment — In  simili  labro  scriptum  olim  versum 
hunc  retrogradum,  qui  habetur  in  Antliologiu,  aj/ud  Grutcrum  et  alios,  aiunt. 
(Ducange,  annot.  in  Paul.  Silent,  p.  539.  ad  calc.  Cinnami  de  Comneni  rebus 
gestis,  &c.,  fol.  Par.  1670.  et  inter  Hist.  Byzant.  Script,  p.  80.,  ed.  Niebuhr. 
8vo.  Bonn,  1837.  In  Niebuhr's  edition  Grelot's  remarks  and  illustration.s  are 
appended,  as  cited  in  the  commentary  of  Bandurius,  p.  179.) 

It  does  not  appear  to  which  of  the  numerous  Anthologies,  or  to  what  work 
of  Gruter,  this  inexcusably  loose  reference  is  intended  to  apply.  The  writer 
of  the  present  note  has  failed  in  tracking  it  to  either  source.  Enough  remains 
to  prove  that  the  origin  of  this  beautiful  sentiment  is  to  be  sought  for  in  some 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Kx 


Mensa  Mystica,  or  a  Discourse  concerning  the  Sacrament 
OF  THE  Lord's  Supper,  &c. 

This  treatise,  a  valuable  companiou  to  its  predecessor  upon  the 
other  sacrament,  follows  it  without  interruption  in  point  of  date. 
Its  dedication  to  the  writer's  kind  and  valued  patrons,  Sir  Walter 
and  Lady  St.  John,  is  dated  from  the  baronet's  house  at  Battersea, 
J  an.  27,16  ^cT' 

Patrick  had  been  presented  by  Sir  Walter  to  the 
vicarage  of  Battersea  about  two  years  before,  and  continued  to  be 
domesticated  in  his  household  as  chaplain  to  the  family. 

The  subject  was  undertaken  at  the  suggestion  and  by  the  desire  of 
Dr.  Worthingtou,  master  of  Jesus  College,  Cambridge,  who  had  ex- 
other  quarter  than  the  walls  of  the  Byzantine  basilica ;  where,  it  may 
be  added,  no  trace  of  such  an  inscription  has  been  discovered  by  recent  visi- 
tors of  the  mosque.  Every  portion  of  that  edifice  has  recently  been  accessible 
during  the  occupancy  of  the  city  by  the  British  expedition,  nor  has  any  altera- 
tion of  importance  been  effected  since  the  period  of  its  hazardous  inspection  by 
Grelot.  Neither  is  tlie  hue  to  be  recognised  in  Salzenburg's  elaborate  and  mag- 
nificent studies  of  its  architectural  features,  published  in  folio  at  Berlin,  1855. 

The  urns  seen  by  Grelot  formed,  in  all  probability,  no  part  of  the  accessaries 
to  the  serv-ice  of  the  sanctuary,  prior  to  its  occupancy  by  the  votaries  of  Maho- 
met. Tlie  \ovTrjp  or  (pioArj  consecrated  by  Justinian  consisted  of  a  single  basin 
of  jasper,  of  large  dimensions,  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  outer  court  or  area 
before  the  church,  (av\'f).) 

MrjfteSoc^s  5'  eplri/xov  (S  ufKpaKov  Xararat  avKris 

TLvpvT&TT)  <ptd,\ri  Tii  lOffTTiSos  (KTofius  dwp^j" 

"Ep^a  p6os  KfAaSav  di^airdWeTai  r/f'pi  Trffinfiv 

Paul.  Silent,  part.  ii.  178.  p.  29.  ed.  Niebtihr. 

The  anonymous  writer  of  another  description  of  the  church  adds,  'EirofTjire  8e 
th  r))v  <pii\T]v  yvpddfv  irTockj  tppiariKas.  (De  Antiq.  Const.  Anon,  inter  Hist. 
Byzant.  p.  67.)  'Ev  ^^  irpiuTri  eirrSSw  rov  Aourijpos  fitoi-qaf  irv\c!>i/as  4\(KTpavs. 
— Incert.  de  templo  S.  Sophiae,  il)id. 

The  term  <t>i(i\r]  was  also  taken  to  include  the  whole  building  which 
contained  the  lavatory  vessels,  and  was  called  indifferently  vivT^p,  <pp(dp, 
KoAvfifiuoy,  (fi^drriv,  KdvBapos,  Kp-fivri.  —  See  further  Const.  Porph.  in  Vit. 
Basil,  cap  84.  p.  201.  fol.  Par  [685  ;  Gyllius.  Topogr.  Const,  p  295  ;  Bingham, 
book  viii.  chap.  3.  sect.  6;  and  Neale's  Eastern  Church,  i.  p.  215. 

Numerous  instances  in  which  this  elegant  sentence  has  been  inscribed  in 
more  recent  times  on  fonts,  holy  water  basins,  &c.  may  be  seen  on  reference 
to  Notes  and  Queries,  vii.  360,  417. 

The  same  misapprehension  of  Grelot's  statement  has  been  made  in  "  Voyages 
liturgiques  de  France,"  by  le  Sieur  Moleon,  (p.  19.  Svo,  Par.  17 18.  quoted  in 
N.  and  Q,  viii.  352.)  who  mentions  that  the  verse  is  to  be  seen  in  the  church 
of  St.  M^min  at  Micy  on  the  Loire,  near  Orleans,  and  also  in  that  of  St. 
Etienne  d'Egres,  Paris. 


Ix 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


pressed  to  Patrick  his  high  commendation  of  the  Discourse  on  Bap- 
tism. It  is  both  longer  and  more  systematic  than  its  sistev  treatise, 
entering  fully  and  deeply  into  every  aspect  of  its  sacred  subject, 
both  dogmatic  and  practical  ;  and  supplying  under  every  head  those 
devotional  aids  wliich  a  careful  pastor  would  wish  to  see  in  familiar 
use  among  the  members  of  his  flock,  but  which  were  scantily  pro- 
vided in  the  religious  manuals  of  the  time.  Its  reception  Avas  such 
that  a  second  edition  was  issued  in  1667,  in  company  with  a  reprint 
of  Aqua  GenitaUs,  followed  by  others  in  rapid  succession.  The  fifth 
of  these  appeared  in  1684,  the  sixth  and  last  during  the  author's 
lifetime  in  1702,  the  seventh  in  17 17,  and  the  demand  has  never 
been  discontinued  down  to  the  present  time. 


The  Christian  Sacrifice,  a  treatise  shewing  the  necessity, 

END,  AND  MANNER  OF  RECEIVING  THE  HoLY  COMMUNION,  itc. 

.  The  first  or  introductoiy  part  of  this  treatise  is  to  be  regarded  to 
a  great  extent  as  supplementary  to  that  wliich  precedes  it,  fifom  the 
practical  portion  of  which  it  is  in  fact  mainly  derived  and  amplified. 

The  latter  or  gi'cater  proportion  of  its  contents  is  occupied  with 
purely  devotional  topics,  consisting  of  "  suitable  prayers  and  medita- 
tions for  every  mouth  in  the  year,  and  the  principal  festivals  in 
memory  of  our  blessed  Saviour."  To  this  work  is  to  be  traced  the 
beginning  of  that  reputation  which  followed  Patrick  through  life,  as 
a  master  of  the  spirit  and  language  of  prayer,  and  a  feeling  expo- 
nent of  the  religious  wants  and  aspirations  of  the  soul.  The  favour- 
able reception  which  it  immediately  commanded,  and  the  powerful 
hold  it  continued  to  retain  upon  the  minds  of  the  religious  portiou 
of  the  community,  are  evidenced  by  the  numerous  editions  of  the 
'work  which  have  been  called  for.  The  first  appeared  in  the  year 
1670,  the  third  in  1675,  and  the  fifth  as  early  as  1679.  To  enume- 
rate them  all  would  be  superfluous  ;  but  it  may  be  mentioned  that 
the  fifteenth  was  published  in  the  year  1720,  and  that  it  still  con- 
tinues in  very  general  demand. 


A  Book  for  Beginners,  or  an  help  to  young  Communicants. 
This  little  manual,  abridged  and  condensed  fi-om  the  Christian 
.Sacrifice,  for  the  use  of  young  persons  and  the  less  educated  classes 


EDITOK'S  PREFACE. 


Ixi 


generally,  appears  to  have  commaiuled  no  less  extensive  or  perma- 
nent a  popularity.  From  the  date  of  its  publication,  1679,  to  that 
of  the  author's  death  it  had  already  run  through  sixteen  editions. 
Its  sphere  of  usefulness  has  since  been  indefinitely  extended,  owing 
to  its  having  been  adopted,  in  common  with  most  of  Patrick's  moral 
writings,  on  the  list  of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Cln-istian  Know- 
ledge. Clear,  simple,  and  devotional,  it  were  difficult  to  suggest  a 
more  desirable  guide  to  the  altar  than  this  little  tract,  or  one  more 
judiciously  fitted  to  its  special  class  of  communicants. 


A  Treatise  on  the  Necessity  and  Frequency  of  receiving 
THE  Holy  Communion. 

In  accordance  with  the  reiterated  injunctions  of  archbishop  San- 
croft^,  Patrick  exerted  himself  with  great  earnestness,  about  Whit- 
suntide, 1684,  for  the  revival  of  weekly  communions  in  the  cathedral 
church  of  Peterborough,  of  which  he  had  five  years  before  been  ap- 
pointed dean.  With  the  view  of  pressing  upon  the  inhabitants  of 
that  city  in  general  a  more  punctual  and  devout  attendance  upon 
that  holy  sacrament,  as  it  was  authoritatively  rendered  incumbent 
upon  all  the  clergy  by  the  rubric  of  the  church,  which  provides  for 
its  celebration  "  in  all  cathedral  and  collegiate  churches  and 
colleges,  where  there  are  many  priests  and  deacons,  on  every 
Sunday  at  least,"  he  began  on  Whitsunday  a  course  of  three  ser- 
mons upon  the  necessity  and  the  advantages  of  regularly  discharging 
that  sacred  duty.  These  discourses  were  at  the  close  of  the  course 
formed  into  a  small  i2mo  volume,  and  published  under  the  present 
title.  A  second  edition  appeared  in  1 685,  a  third  in  1688,  and  a  fourth 
in  1696,  in  the  last  of  which  the  author  inserted  a  special  and  appro- 
priate prayer  at  the  conclusion  of  each  of  the  three  discourses.  The 
existence  of  the  lastnamed  impression,  which  is  now  extremely  rare, 
only  came  to  the  editor's  knowledge  (to  his  gi-eat  regret)  after  the 

^  This  letter,  which  in  a  note  on  Patrick's  reference,  (vol.  ii.  p.  54,)  the  editor 
expre-s-sed  his  inability  at  the  time  to  identify,  was  possibly  a  reissue  of  the 
pastoral  circular  addressed  by  arclibishop  Sancroft  to  the  chapters  of  the  several 
cathedral  churches  within  his  province,  date<l  from  Lambeth  palace,  June  4, 1670, 
and  printed  by  Dr.  Cardwell  in  his  Documentary  Annals  of  the  Church  of 
England,  vol.  ii.  p.  280,  from  the  original  among  the  Tanner  papei-s  in  the 
Bodleian  Library. 


Ixii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


volume  containing  the  Discourse  had  passed  tiie  press,  too  late  in 
consequence  to  permit  the  insertion  of  those  prayers  in  their  proper 
places.  A  place  might  have  been  found  for  them  in  the  appendix, 
which  was  at  the  time  in  the  printer's  hands,  but  that  in  the 
single  copy  which  by  the  kindness  of  a  friend  was  placed  in  his 
hands  the  last  prayer  was  unfortunately  mutilated  to  an  extent 
which  defied  conjectural  restoration.  It  was  not  deemed  advisable 
to  insert  the  additional  matter  in  a  merely  fragmentary  form.  No 
other  copy  has  as  yet  been  met  with. 

The  treatise,  wanting  the  prayere  in  question,  was  reprinted  at 
Oxford  in  small  8vo  in  the  year  1841,  (as  part  of  a  series  of  manuals 
on  practical  and  devotional  subjects  issued  by  Messrs.  Parker,)  under 
the  editorship  of  the  Rev.  William  Bentinck  Hawkins,  M.  A.,  who  in 
his  introductory  notice  assigns  it  no  more  than  its  merited  commen- 
dation, when  he  says  that  it  "  not  only  enters  into  the  general  nature 
and  design  of  '  the  most  comfortable  sacrament  of  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ,'  but  discusses  in  the  most  complete  and  con\nncing 
manner  a  portion  of  the  subject  which  has  not  always  been  treated 
at  suffic'ent  length;  the  objections,  namely,  by  which  various  persons 
are  deterred  from  partaking  of  this  most  sacred  ordinance  and  in- 
stitution, whether  arising  from  conscientious  scruples,  or,  as  it  is  to 
be  feared  is  the  more  fi'equent  case,  from  motives  of  a  less  innocent 
character.  The  venerable  bishop  has  investigated  the  real  nature 
of  every  one  of  these,  and  has  torn  off  the  specious  disguise  which 
they  sometimes  assume  ;  he  has  detected  and  laid  bare  those  weak- 
nesses of  our  nature  in  which  they  originate,  and  has  proved  that 
they  proceed  fi-om  negligence,  indifference,  or  a  want  of  due  consi- 
deration for  the  vital  interests  of  religion,  rather  than  from  any 
other  cause." 


A  Brief  Exposition  of  the  Tex  Commandments  and  the 
Lord's  Prayer. 
The  class  of  wa-itings  specially  devoted  to  the  subject  of  sacra- 
mental preparation  and  worship  has,  with  a  view  to  gi-eater  distinct- 
ness, been  kept  apart,  under  the  present  arrangement,  from  those 
which  treat  of  the  topic  of  Devotion  in  its  more  general  and  ordi- 
nary form.  The  earliest  of  this  series  of  devotional  compositions  is 
the  short  manual  published  in  the  form  of  a  catechism  or  dialogue 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixlii 


upon  the  Decalogue  and  Lord's  Prayer,  chiefly  designed  for  the  use 
of  the  parishioners  of  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden.  The  preface  to 
the  first  edition  bears  date  Sept.  13,  1665,  and  is  marked  through- 
out by  that  tone  of  impressiveness  and  solemnity  which  the  ravages 
of  the  great  pestilence,  then  at  its  most  appalling  height,  could  not 
fail  to  create  in  so  conscientious  and  sensitive  a  mind. 

This  compendious  little  work,  which  offers  in  its  carefully  selected 
choice  of  scripture  texts,  a  useful  variety  of  heads  for  catechetical 
instruction,  has  also  passed  through  very  numerous  impressions,  e.  g. 
in  1668,  1672,  and  1688. 


The  Devout  Christian  instructed  how  to  pray  and  give 
THANKS  to  God,  &c. 

Patrick  has  himself  narrated  the  circumstances  which  led  to  the 
composition  of  this  his  most  complete  and  systematic  collection  of 
prayers.  At  a  meeting  of  sixteen  of  the  principal  clergy  of  London, 
towards  the  close  of  the  year  1670,  it  was  resolved  that  each  should 
undertake  the  composition  of  a  small  popular  treatise  upon  one  or 
other  of  the  principal  subjects  relating  to  Christian  pi-actice.  To 
Patrick  was  delegated  the  task  of  preparing  a  comprehensive 
manual  of  devotion  applicable  to  all  the  ordinary  occasions  of  life. 
This  labour  occupied  him  from  time  to  time,  amid  various  interrup- 
tions, during  a  year  and  a  half  The  titlepage  of  the  first  edition, 
in  i2mo,  bears  date  1673,  though  the  iinpriiiuitur  of  Sancroft's 
chaplain  Parker  is  dated  Oct.  21,  1672. 

Breathing  throughout  the  spirit,  and  to  a  great  extent  the  very 
language  of  Holy  Scripture,  this  admirable  collection  of  prayers  be- 
came at  once  extensively  popular,  and  has  ever  since  maintained  its 
place  amidst  the  rivalry  of  countless  later  aids  to  devotion.  Com- 
prising forms  for  daily  use,  both  morning  and  evening, — for  Sundays 
and  festivals,  in  church  and  in  pi-ivate, — for  persons  of  every  class 
and  under  all  the  general  conditions  of  life, — supplying  for  all  the 
most  pressing  occasions  the  means  of  that  sacred  exercise  which  to 
a  Christian  is  not  less  a  privilege  than  a  duty, — it  may  still  be  re- 
commended in  its  author's  words,  as  "  A  Book  of  Devotions  for 
families  and  for  particular  persons  in  most  of  the  concerns  of  human 
life." 

The  numerous  editions  through  which  it  has  passed  testify  to  the 


Ixiv 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


value  set  upon  this  compilation,  and  the  extent  to  which  it  has  beeii 
appreciated  The  fifth  appeared  before  the  end  of  nine  yeai"S,  the 
seventh  in  1686,  the  ninth  in  1694,  and  upwards  of  nineteen  by  the 
year  1782. 


Jesus  and  the  Resurrection  justified  by  witnesses  in 
Heaven  and  earth  ;  in  two  parts. 

When  first  published,  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1676,  this 
treatise  was  entitled  The  Witnesses  to  Christianity  :  or  the 
Certainty  of  our  Faith  and  Hope,  in  a  Discourse  upon 
I  John  v.  7,  8.  A  second  edition  being  called  for  late  in  the 
author's  life  (1703),  the  original  title  was  altered  by  him  to  that 
which  it  now  bears.  The  present  impression  has  been  printed  from 
the  text  of  the  latter  edition  ;  coiTected,  where  necessary,  by  refer- 
ence to  the  authority  of  the  first.  Few  discrepancies  of  any  moment 
occur  between  the  two. 

To  this  and  the  following  work,  the  "  Glorious  Epiphany,"  a  dis- 
tinctive place  has  been  allotted,  as  forming  in  themselves  a  special 
class  apart  fi'om  the  rest  of  Patrick's  A\Titings. 

They  are  most  fitly  to  be  designated  in  common  as  Treatises  on 
the  Evidences  of  Christianity?.  It  will  immediately  be  perceived  that 
they  exhibit  in  scope  and  style  but  little  similarity  with  treatises 
of  the  more  strictly  argumentative  class  put  forth  by  Clarke,  Butler, 
or  Paley  in  the  following  century.  That  conception  of  the  Christian 
evidences  which  was  demanded  by,  and  accommodated  to  the  wants 
of  a  generation  more  advanced  in  coldness  and  incredulity,  was  neither 

f  The  Devout  Christian,  in  common  with  many  others  of  Patrick's  theologi- 
cal and  devotional  writings,  is  included  b}'  Dr.  Bray  in  his  excellent  classifica- 
tion, entitled  "  Bibliotheca  Parochialis,  or  heads  for  the  foraiation  of  a  library 
for  the  use  of  a  parish  or  congregation,"  published  in  1701. 

Another  interesting  testimony  to  the  value  set  upon  this  devotional  manual 
is  to  be  found  in  Lady  Eachel  Russell's  recentlj'  discovered  letter  to  her  chil- 
dren, dated  July  21,  i6gi.    The  extract  is  given  rerbathii. 

"Doctor  Patrick's  book  of  prayers  (caled  ye  devout  Christian)  furnished  me 
now — his  large  form  of  devotion,  page  477,  has  both  thanksgiving  and  confes- 
sion in  it." 

"  Get  also  ejaculations  by  heart  for  divers  times  in  the  day,  see  patrick, 
pa:  274."  "  On  Sunday  see  patrick  198  before  church,  in  talor  (Jeremy  Taylor) 
302.". . ."  I  pray  such  prayers  as  I  chuse  out  of  talor  or  patrick,  or  any  other 
I  like  or  have  by  me." — Lady  Russell's  Letters,  ii.  74.  82. 

K  They  are  classified  under  this  head  in  Dr.  Bray's  Bibliotheca,  p.  ji- 


EDITOR'S  PRP:FACE. 


Ixv 


necessitated,  nor  had  yet  iu  fact  been  formed,  while  belief  was  in 
the  main  more  simple,  and  the  acceptance  of  elementary  religious 
truths  less  scrupulously  or  jealously  questioned.  In  the  appeals  or 
grounds  of  suasion  set  forth  in  these  pages  there  may  not  be  much 
that  would  command  the  conviction,  or  abash  the  arrogance,  of  the 
polished  sceptics  of  the  subsequent  age  :  based  as  they  are  upon 
assumptions  which  to  Hume,  Bolingbroke,  or  Toland,  would  appear 
illogical,  gratuitous,  or  puerile ;  and  referrible  only  to  a  class  of  feel- 
ings and  ideas  which  they  would  insist  above  all  on  eliminating  from 
the  controversy,  as  tending  to  impart  an  unfair  bias  to  the  judg- 
ment, and  to  interfere  with  the  severely  calm  and  unimpassioned  de- 
cisions of  the  critical  faculty. 

To  take  a  stand,  as  the  advocate  of  Christian  truth,  upon  the  ground 
of  the  intuitive  or  universal  sentiment  of  religion,  through  which 
the  voice  of  revelation  finds  its  own  silent  sympathetic  witness  iu 
the  human  heart,  had  not,  up  to  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
come  to  be  regarded  as  so  untenable  or  contemptible  a  position 
as  it  became  in  the  following  age,  and  was  even  to  a  very  late 
period  very  generally  felt  to  be.  In  that  interval  the  encounter 
had  more  and  more  to  be  carried  on  with  intellects  hardened  to  the 
narrowest  processes  of  reason  by  an  uniformly  materialistic  tenor  of 
study  and  pursuit,  and  exacting  the  most  rigid  tests  of  palpable  de- 
monstration ;  minds  fostered  in  habits  of  indifference  to  religion, 
and  deadened  by  contact  with  the  least  spiritualizing  influences  of 
society,  then  in  its  most  sensual  and  selfish  phase.  Somewhat  of  a 
corresponding  temper  is  in  such  a  case  unavoidably  imparted  to  the 
weapons  of  argument  employed  in  the  defence.  When  logical  tena- 
city and  forensic  acumen  are  held  of  the  first  importance,  not  a  little 
may  have  to  be  retrenched  from  tenderness  of  suasion,  and  urgency 
of  appeal.  Reduced  to  seek  for  the  ultimate  seat  of  truth  within 
the  limits  of  the  critical  understanding,  and  to  test  every  step  by 
the  technical  rules  of  reason, — debarred,  while  dealing  with  the  most 
mysterious  of  subjects,  from  assuming  any  point  without  anterior 
proof  of  its  own, — the  mind  is  inevitably,  if  not  perceptibly,  cramped 
in  exercising  its  powers,  and  iu  doing  justice  to  the  moral  gi-andeur 
and  sublimity  of  its  cause.  Permitted  to  seek  the  source  of  spiritual 
life  only  by  anatomizing  the  frame  of  consciousness  and  conviction 
after  the  pulse  has  ceased  to  beat,  or  the  motive  powers  have 
become  rigidly  mechanical,  it  fails  to  detect  the  perfect  laws  by 

e 


Ixvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Avhich  the  spirit  lives  aud  moves;  and  becomes  apt  to  miss  the  finer 
threads  or  nerves  which  unite  the  processes  of  the  understanding 
with  the  centre  of  Bpiritual  force  in  man,  and  draw  together  reason 
and  faith  into  a  living  and  organic  whole.  The  eye,  from  dwelling 
upon  the  more  harsh  and  violent  contrasts  which  meet  it  in  the 
rough  world  without,  is  gradually  blinded  to  the  delicate  refinements 
and  infinite  shades  of  meaning  which  diversify  the  inner  region  of 
the  spirit ;  and  which,  through  the  medium  of  a  diviner  faith,  are 
seen  mutually  to  relieve  and  blend  into  each  other  in  subtle  harmo- 
nies of  colour,  like  so  many  elementary  hues  into  which  the  pure 
ray  of  heavenly  light  is  refi'acted  by  the  prism  of  thought. 

The  evidences  of  Christianity,  including  the  preliminary  proofs  of 
simple  theism,  or  natural  religion,  are  thus  capable  of  being  treated 
in  two  different  methods,  or  constructed  from  two  distinct  and  in 
part  independent  bases.  During  the  last  centui-y  the  most  syste- 
matic attempts  were  made  to  bring  the  question  at  issue  with  the 
sceptic  to  the  test  of  pure  reason,  and  experimental  observation,  and 
to  solve  and  reconcile  the  mysteries  of  religion  by  the  analogies  of 
the  outward  world.  How  far  this  attempt  to  explain  and  measure 
the  life  of  the  spirit  by  the  rule  of  the  intellect  alone  has  been 
attended  with  success,  it  is  not  at  present  necessaiy  to  inquire. 
The  treatise  before  us  forms  an  example  of  the  earlier  and  less  re- 
stricted mode  of  treatment,  a  mode  characteristic  of  a  mind  less 
severe  perhaps  in  its  canons  of  logic,  but  at  the  same  time  not  so 
material  or  eristic  in  its  standards  of  ratiocination.  The  conception 
under  which  such  a  mind  yv\\\  most  love  to  view  the  evidences  of 
Christian  faith,  will  be  not  so  much  that  of  a  compact  and  syste- 
matic frame  of  proof  which  may  be  thi'ust  at  any  time  bodily  upon 
the  understanding,  as  that  of  a  principle  which  has  a  witness  in  itself, 
in  every  secret  centre  of  the  heart ;  one  which  is  really  latent  under 
and  inspires  every  truthful  sentiment,  and  is  inly  interwoven  with 
every  pure  and  sacred  affection ;  beginning  to  work  in  every  man 
as  early  and  often  more  powerfully  than  his  conscience,  and  deeply 
underlying,  as  the  ultimate  and  infinite  object  of  thought,  even  his 
intellectual  perception  of  the  finite. 

It  is  through  this  spiritual  sense,  the  'divine  reason'  of  the  Pla- 
tonists,  this  sympathetic  and  filial  affinity  of  the  soul  for  the  things 
of  God,  far  more  than  by  the  severely  technical  demonstrations  of 
natural  logic,  that  the  realities  of  religion  are  brought  home  to  the 


A 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixvii 


spirit  of  man.  And  to  awaken,  elicit,  stimulate  and  inform  this 
sense  of  the  infinite,  this  primary,  and  instinctive  and  direct  intui- 
tion of  God,  has  been  the  aim  of  those  who  have  at  any  time  most 
deeply  felt,  and  most  successfiilly  penetrated  the  laws  and  exigencies 
of  the  soul.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  the  Platonic  spirit,  however 
much  modified  by  the  accessaries  of  modern  thought,  to  point  the 
mind  of  the  inquirer  towards  this  resting  place  in  the  ideal  and  the 
absolute,  and  to  throw  its  tinge  of  enthusiasm  over  the  work  of  faith. 
With  a  loving  trust  in  its  power  to  attract  both  the  intellect  and 
the  heart,  its  earnest  advocates  ventured  to  make  the  Gospel  of 
Christ  appeal  straightway  to  its  own  independent  witness  in  the 
soul,  and  his  Spirit  utter  to  the  ear  of  conscience  its  own  most 
authentic  credentials. 

The  influence  of  his  peculiar  mental  training  has  not  failed  to 
make  itself  felt,  as  well  in  the  author's  conception  of  the  work  before 
him,  as  in  the  method  which  he  has  pursued  in  treating  it.  In 
seeking  the  "  Witnesses  to  Christianity,"  or  the  proofs  of  the  divine 
authority  of  Christ,  he  has  not  felt  it  necessary  to  descend  to  those 
special  grounds  of  religious  truth,  in  natural  reason  or  the  constitu- 
tion of  things,  which  might  have  been  required  in  a  demonstrator  of 
religion  in  the  next  age.  He  is  able  to  take  for  granted  the  primary 
convictions  of  theism  in  the  soul,  and  the  authority  of  revelation  as 
the  direct  utterance  of  God. 

From  these  simple  but  safe  assumptions,  without  much  reference 
to  the  ontological  proofs  of  a  later  day,  in  the  fitness  of  things  or 
the  unity  of  objective  being,  he  proceeds  to  draw  out  in  form  the 
testimony  of  the  Gospel  scheme  to  the  divinity  of  its  supreme  Head ; 
concuiTcntly  with  those  responses  of  the  heart  by  which  man's  OAvn 
nature  joins  witness  at  eveiy  step  to  the  power  of  Christ's  doctrines, 
and  to  their  efficacy  in  satisfying  the  wants  of  the  recipient.  The 
manifestation  of  Christ  in  his  written  word  is  thus  made  to  elicit 
and  to  realize  the  secret  manifestation  which  he  retains  in  the  soul 
once  made  in  his  image.  A  finite  witness  is  found  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  man  to  that  borne  evermore  with  our  spirit  by  the  Spirit  of 
the  Infinite  and  the  Eternal. 

Exception  may  perhaps  be  taken  to  the  entire  coui-se  of  argument 
by  which  Patrick  has  here  drawn  out  the  Scriptural  proofs  of  the 
divinity  of  Christ,  on  the  ground  that  his  whole  structure  rests 
upon  and  is  expanded  out  of  one  particular  text  in  St.  John's  first 

e  2 


Ixviii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Epistle,  the  genuineness  of  which  -will  scarcely  now  be  upheld  by 
any  theologian  of  repute.  It  is  true  that  the  more  critical  labours 
of  later  scholars,  and  a  wider  and  more  exact  collation  of  manuscripts, 
have  caused  the  verse,  i  John  v.  7,  if  not  to  be  wholly  abandoned,  as  a 
late  and  unauthorized  interpolation,  yet  to  be  at  all  events  withdrawn 
fi-om  its  prominent  position  as  the  most  explicit  enunciation  in  Holy 
Writ  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  Trinity.  Yet  the  withdrawal  of 
that  or  any  other  individual  text  can  in  no  material  degree  be  held 
to  detract  from  the  validity  of  an  argument,  which  really  rests  upon 
the  consilient  testimony  of  a  cloud  of  inspired  witnesses.  It  is  by 
no  isolated  passage  that  the  great  central  verity  of  the  Gospel  can  be 
vitally  affected ;  identified  as  it  is  with  the  whole  substance  and  pm-port 
of  the  Chi-istian  message,  and  bound  up  with  the  most  essential  work- 
ings of  the  Christian  consciousness.  So  eminent  a  critic  as  Patrick 
himself  could  not  but  be  perfectly  aware  of  the  doubts  which  himg 
over  this  clause,  although  the  tests  at  that  time  available  were  not 
sufficient  to  cany  to  his  mind  the  full  conviction  of  its  spurious- 
uessli.  Its  dogmatic  preciseness  of  form  (however  in  itself  calculated 
to  throw  doubt  upon  its  pristine  origin  and  date,)  may  have  had 
weight  in  determining  his  choice  of  it  as  the  groundwork  of  his 
general  scheme.  He  is  thence  led  to  proceed  systematically  with  his 
accumulation  of  Scriptural  testimonies,  beginning  with  those  of  the 
"  Heavenly  Witnesses,"  the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost. 
These  passages,  with  the  historical  and  argumentative  considerations 
based  upon  them,  occupy  the  first  di%asion,  or  first  four  chapters,  of 
the  original  treatise.  The  second  portion,  or  three  next  chapters, 
are  devoted  to  a  similar  elucidation  of  the  "  Witnesses  upon  earth,"  the 
Spirit,  the  Water  and  the  Blood ;  the  first  of  the  three  being  con- 
sidered last  in  order,  as  affording  to  his  argument  a  more  emphatic 
climax.  In  addition  to  these,  he  adduces  in  the  three  concluding 
chapters  supplementary  proofs  of  the  power  of  Christ,  in  the  miracu- 
lous history  of  his  apostles,  the  lives  of  the  early  saints  and  martjTS 
of  the  church,  and  the  history  of  the  faith  itself  in  its  progress 
through  the  world. 

By  the  natural  bias  of  a  mind  like  his,  Patrick  must  have  felt  himself 
urged  not  so  much  in  the  direction  of  technical  or  dogmatic  studies 
in  theology,  as  towards  its  bearing  upon  the  realities  of  the  spiritual 
life;  and  have  been  less  at  home  while  demonstrating  Christian  doctrine 
h  See  vol.  ii.  p.  344. 


EDITOR'S  PKEFACE. 


Ixix 


in  the  abstract,  than  in  applying  it  to  the  enforcement  of  practical 
holiness.  Shortly  after  completing  the  first  or  theoretic  portion  of 
his  theme,  he  formed  the  design  of  continuing  the  same  subject  in 
a  second  or  supplementary  discourse,  in  which  he  has  reviewed  the 
great  work  of  Christ,  his  Incarnation,  Atonement,  Sacrifice,  and 
Resurrection,  in  its  effects  upon  the  salvation  of  man.  Invoking  the 
testimony  of  the  same  Witnesses,  by  whom  he  had  in  the  first  in- 
stance established  the  nature  and  dignity  of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Son 
of  God,  he  finds  in  their  concurrent  voices  a  proof  of  the  blessed 
result  of  the  Saviour's  mission,  the  gift  of  Eternal  Life  ;  the  life 
of  the  divine  Head  imparted  to  his  human  members. 

The  text  or  thesis  upon  which  this  second  portion  of  his  argu- 
ment is  constructed  is  another  verse  of  the  same  chapter,  i  John 
V.  II.  "Looking  a  little  further  into  the  holy  writer  who  hath 
preserved  the  unquestionable  records  concerning  these  matters,  I 
find  there  is  as  great  a  certainty  of  this  Eternal  Life  hy  Jesus  Christ 
as  there  is  of  his  being  the  Son  of  God ;  and  that  the  very  same 
witnesses  wlio  so  fully  declare  the  one,  give  no  less  strong  evidence 
for  the  proof  of  the  other.  For  this,  says  he,  is  tJie  record  (or 
witness),  that  God  loath  given  to  us  eternal  life :  and  this  life  is  in 
his  Son.  Which  words,  being  ar  continuation  of  the  foregoing  dis- 
course, carry  their  sense  in  them : — There  is  great  reason  you  should 
receive  the  witness  of  God,  (viz.  of  the  Father,  Word,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  and  of  the  Water,  Blood,  and  Spirit,)  not  only  because  it  is 
greater  than  the  witness  of  men,  which  you  cannot  justly  reject and 
because,  if  you  do  reject  it,  you  make  God  a  liar,  (which  who  can 
have  the  heart  to  do  V)  but  also  because  the  thing  which  is  testified 
to  us  by  these  witnesses,  when  they  say  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  oj 
God,  is  of  all  other  the  most  desirable,  viz.  that  God  designs  for  us 
no  less  blessing  than  Eternal  Life,  which  the  Lord  Jesus  hath  in 
his  hands  to  keep  for  us,  and  to  bestow  upon  us''." 

After  discussing  in  the  first  five  chapters  (i)  the  nature,  (2)  the 
eternity,  (3)  the  certainty,  and  (4)  the  excellence  of  this  promised  life, 
he  proceeds,  exactly  repeating  the  method  and  plan  of  the  former 
part,  to  treat  of  the  testimony  of  the  three  Witnesses  in  heaven,  the 
Father,  the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  of  the  three  on  earth, 
the  Water,  the  Blood,  and  the  Spirit ;  joining  to  it  as  before  that  of 
the  apostles  and  the  church.  The  two  final  chapters  are  devoted  to 
'  I  John  V.  9.  k  Preface  to  the  Second  part,  vol.  iii.  p.  23. 


Ixx 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


a  practical  and  devotional  "  improvement  of  the  record,"  as  a  stimu- 
lant to  Christian  faith  and  hope,  and  an  incentive  to  Christian 
obedience. 

Argument,  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word,  not  being  the  aim 
or  scope  of  these  discoui'ses,  it  were  useless  to  inquire  deeply  into 
their  value  as  supplying  the  means  of  conviction  to  a  doubtful  or 
indifferent  mind.  Presupposing  as  they  do  an  acceptance  by  the 
intellect  and  heart  of  at  least  the  primary  principles  of  religion, 
and  a  susceptibility  to  the  special  appeals  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
in  revelation,  it  is  their  object  to  set  before  the  religious  mind  the 
higher  consequences  to  which  those  first  steps  in  divine  knowledge 
should  rightly  lead.  Pointing  to  the  trae  nature  and  \ital  idea 
of  Christianity,  as  a  manifestation  of  the  personal  life  of  Christ,  they 
aim  at  setting  forth  the  great  articles  of  the  faith,  not  as  sterile 
dogmas  or  metaphysical  speculations,  but  as  replete  with  living  power, 
and  intimately  affecting  both  the  present  experience  and  ultimate 
prospects  of  the  Christian.  In  the  Incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God 
is  found  to  lie  his  pri\'ilege  of  sonship  and  adoption.  In  the  Eesm*- 
rection  of  his  Saviour  he  is  taught  to  cherish  no  less  confidently  the 
expectation  of  Eternal  Life. 

If  there  is  little  in  such  a  demonstration  to  humble  the  infidel, 
there  is  that  which  may  aid  the  believer  in  ascending  the  heights  of 
contemplation,  and  surveying  the  majestic  proportions  of  his  faith  ; 
much  that  may  supply  a  thoughtful  mind  with  topics  for  edifying 
reflection,  and  with  materials  for  giving  form  to  its  devout  impres- 
sions in  the  language  of  appropriate  pi'ayer  and  praise.  Every  page 
reflects  the  deep,  spontaneous,  and  loving  belief  of  the  writer ;  and 
not  a  few  passages,  especially  in  the  devotional  portions,  are  inspired 
by  genuine  pathos,  tenderness,  and  beauty. 

The  second  part  of  this  treatise  was  first  conceived  in  September, 
1675,  but  not  fairly  taken  in  hand  till  the  followng  January.  It 
was  published  in  September  1676,  and  reprinted  together  with  the 
first,  under  the  new  title,  in  1703. 


The  Glorious  Epiphany,  with  the  devout  Christian's 
love  to  it. 

The  primary  conception  of  the  author  in  composing  this  treatise 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxi 


was  to  carry  on  and  supplement  the  design  begun  in  the  two  suc- 
cessive parts  of  that  which  precedes  it.  From  the  grounds  and 
evidences  of  the  Christian's  faith  in  a  present  Saviour,  and  the  work 
of  salvation  accomplished  by  his  mediation  on  earth,  and  his  ascen- 
sion into  the  heavens,  the  transition  is  easy  and  natural  to  the 
consideration  of  those  scriptural  and  moral  proofs  which  relate  to 
the  final  and  crowning  agency  of  Christ  in  his  office  of  Judge  of 
all  mankind.  Patrick  himself,  in  a  few  opening  sentences,  supplies 
the  link  of  thought  which  establishes  the  logical  connection  between 
the  two  ;  the  one  devoted  to  contemplating  the  First,  the  other  the 
Second  Advent  of  the  One  Head  of  the  Christian  Church. 

"  He  hath  not  only  assured  us  that  he  hath  all  power  in  heaven 
and  in  earth,  and  that  he  will  bestow  the  inestimable  gift  of  immor- 
tality upon  us  ;  but  that  he  himself  will  once  more  come  fi'om 
heaven  to  crown  us  with  it.  We  know,  as  I  have  shown  in  two 
former  treatises,  that  the  Son  of  God  is  come,  and  hath  given  us  an 
understanding  to  know  him  that  is  true,  and  we  are  in  him  that  is 
trioe  :  and  this  is  the  true  God  and  eternal  life,  which  he  hath 
revealed  to  us.  But  besides  this  first  coming  to  teach  us  the  will  of 
God,  to  die  for  our  sins,  and  to  open  to  us  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
after  he  had  shown  us  the  way  to  it,  he  hath  bid  us  believe  there  is 
a  second,  when  he  will  come  to  judge  us  by  those  laws  which  he 
hath  left  his  church,  and  to  put  the  observers  of  them  into  the  pos- 
session of  that  heavenly  kingdom  which  he  hath  promised.  And 
there  are  none  of  the  Witnesses  who  testify  that  he  is  King  of  Glory, 
but  assure  us  of  this  also,  that  he  will  appear  in  that  glory  to  take 
us  up  unto  himself  1." 

The  Glorious  Epiphany  issued  from  the  press,  in  8vo.  form,  Avith 
an  engraved  frontispiece,  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1678.  A  second 
impression  appeared  in  1686.  Neither  this  nor  the  preceding 
treatise,  relating  as  they  do  to  the  more  abstract  and  mysterious 
phases  of  revealed  religion,  seem  to  have  attained  the  same  wide 
and  lasting  popularity  as  those  works  in  which  he  deals  exclusively 
with,  the  practical  aspects  of  the  Christian  life.  The  call  for  them 
has  never  as  yet  extended  to  more  than  two  impressions  of  each. 

'  Vol.  iii.  p.  358. 


Ixxii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


The  Heart's  Ease,  or  a  Remedy  against  Troubles. 

The  earliest  and  best  known  of  the  didactic  class  of  Patrick's 
writings,  relating  to  moral  and  consolatory  topics,  The  Heart's 
Ease,  was  composed  in  the  year  1659,  chiefly  for  the  benefit  of  his 
patron's  wife.  Lady  Johanna  St.  John,  a  lady  of  amiable  and  virtuous 
disposition,  but  either  by  constitutional  sensibility,  or  the  peculiar 
bias  of  her  Christian  sentiments,  inclined  to  religious  melancholy. 
With  such  a  tendency  Patrick's  own  nature  was  eminently  fitted 
to  sympathize,  as  well  by  a  natural  bent  of  mind  in  favour  of 
pietistic  abstraction,  as  by  his  favourite  study  of  models  of  romantic 
piety  and  mystic  speculation.  The  griefs  and  perplexities  of  such 
minds  often  partake  to  a  great  extent  of  an  imaginary  character,  the 
product  of  an  overwrought  and  desponding  temperament.  Brooding 
in  solitude  and  silence  over  its  own  disease,  the  spirit  is  prone  to 
aggravate  symptoms  which  a  more  sanguine  temper,  a  healthier 
constitution  of  belief,  or  a  call  to  more  active  exertion  in  the  offices 
of  religion,  or  those  of  charitable  and  social  duty,  would  surely  and 
promptly  chase  away.  Nothing  can  be  more  gentle  or  considerate 
than  the  mode  in  which  her  spiritual  adviser  addresses  himself  to  the 
task  of  soothing  this  lady's  causeless  anxieties,  and  quieting  her  self- 
engendered  scruples.  If  it  be  thought  in  some  sense  to  fall  short  of 
the  highest  elevation  of  Christian  sentiment,  relying  more  strongly 
upon  the  innate  capacities  of  the  soul  for  the  cure  of  its  own  dis- 
orders, than  upon  the  supreme  power  of  divine  grace  in  overruling 
the  weaknesses  and  supplying  the  deficiencies  of  nature  ;  it  must  be 
kept  in  view,  that  to  probe  and  rectify  the  perturbed  and  morbid 
condition  of  his  patient's  mind  was  naturally  the  first  object  of  soli- 
citude to  the  pastoral  physician.  His  second  was  to  make  the  ex- 
cited mind  itself  the  instrument  of  its  own  cure,  leading  it  through 
a  sense  of  human  insufficiency  to  use  the  means  of  grace  divinely 
provided  in  the  gospel.  In  the  simplicity  and  tnithfulness  of  its 
appeal  to  the  instinctive  feelings  and  affections  of  every  heart,  lies 
in  fact  the  secret  of  that  success  which  this  little  treatise  has  so  long 
and  so  widely  enjoyed,  as  a  manual  of  advice  and  consolation. 

On  issuing  this  discourse  to  the  public,  early  in  the  year  1660, 
Patrick  subjoined  to  it  another  in  prosecution  of  the  same  train  of 
reflection, — "A  Consolatory  Discourse  to  prevent  immoderate 
grief  for  the  death  of  our  Friends." 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxiii 


A  second  edition  was  called  for  in  167 1,  a  third  in  1674,  and  a 
fourth  in  1676,  to  all  of  which  were  appended  two  papers  circulated 
during  the  crisis  of  the  great  plague,  mainly  for  the  use  of  the 
parishioners  of  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden.  The  first  of  these  is  en- 
titled A  Brief  Exhortation  to  those  who  are  shut  up  from 
OUR  society,  and  deprived  at  present  of  public  instruction, 
dated  Aug.  19,  1665,  and  addressed  as  well  to  those  persons  who 
were  actually  suffering  from  the  pestilence,  as  to  those  who,  through 
attendance  on  the  sick  or  from  fear  of  contagion,  were  shut  up  in 
their  dwellings.  The  second  consists  of  A  Consolatory  Discourse 
persuading  to  a  cheerful  trust  in  God  in  these  times  of 
trouble  and  danger,  dated  September  i,  1665. 

Deeply  imbued  with  the  writer's  classical  tastes  and  contempla- 
tive predilections,  this  beautiful  series  of  consolatory  counsels  blends 
throughout  the  intellectual  calm  of  the  philosoi)hic  with  the  re- 
signed and  constant  faith  of  the  religious  spirit.  The  harsher,  how- 
ever sublime  features  of  pagan  morality  are  seen  to  be  subdued  by 
the  softer  and  more  purifying  discipline  of  Christian  belief.  Far 
from  seeking  the  cure  of  the  heart's  sorrow  in  mere  oblivion,  either 
through  the  atheistic  fatalism  of  the  Stoic,  the  sensual  indifference 
of  the  Epicurean,  or  the  enforced  quietism  of  the  predestinarian, 
the  spirit  of  suffering  humanity  is  taught  to  be  chastened  and  en- 
nobled under  the  sense  of  a  providential  order,  until  it  can  prostrate 
itself  in  unreserved  submission  and  patient  trust  at  the  feet  of  its 
Almighty  Ruler. 

Whilst  the  faith  of  the  Christian,  and  the  skill  of  the  moral  guide 
and  comforter,  are  evidenced  by  the  purely  evangelical  tone  of  senti- 
ment herein  inculcated,  the  taste  of  the  scholar  speaks  in  many  a 
graceful  anecdote  and  learned  maxim,  in  sage  and  sedative  aphor- 
isms from  Epictetus,  Seneca,  and  Antoninus,  ascetic  wisdom  from  the 
early  church,  and  prudential  oracles  from  the  school  of  the  Rabbins  ; 
varied  by  the  somewhat  cynical  and  more  worldly  counsels  of  the 
moderns,  Montaigne  and  Cardan,  Malherbe  and  Du  Vair. 

The  subsequent  editions  of  these  combined  pieces  have  been  very 
numerous.  Eight  had  been  already  published  at  the  date  of  the 
author's  decease,  and  repeated  reprints  have  been  issued  down  to 
the  present  time. 


Ixxiv 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


The  Parable  of  the  Pilgrim. 

Patrick's  own  narrative  supplies  the  information  that  this  alle- 
gory was  originally  composed  in  the  year  1663,  for  the  benefit  of  a 
private  (but  unnamed)  friend,  in  whose  hands  it  was  for  some  time 
sufiFered  to  remain.  At  the  suggestion  of  others,  that  it  might  be  of 
more  general  utility,  it  was  given  to  the  public,  vnth  certain  addi- 
tions and  modifications,  at  the  close  of  the  follo^^^ug  year,  or  in  the 
spring  of  1665°!.  Eclipsed  as  it  has  since  been  by  the  nobler  crea- 
tion of  a  greater  master  of  the  imaginative  spirit,  the  reception 
accorded  to  Patrick's  fiction  was  eminently  flattering,  and  at  least 
conclusive  as  to  its  adaptation  to  the  taste  and  habits  of  the  age. 
Numerous  editions,  in  rapid  succession,  were  absorbed  by  the  public 
demand.  One  is  dated  1670,  but  bears  nothing  to  indicate  to  which 
place  in  the  succession  it  belongs.  It  was  probably  the  thu-d,  since 
one  was  published  in  1667.  The  sixth,  illustrated  by  a  curious  fron- 
tispiece, appeared  in  1687,  all  in  the  same  4to  form. 

Characterized  as  it  is  throughout  by  varied  learning  and  exqui- 
site sensibility,  the  Parable  cannot  be  said  to  approach  as  a  fiction 
the  highest  standard  of  poetic  genius.  Still  it  marks  a  point  in  the 
national  literature.  Few  models  of  allegorical  composition  in  prose 
were  extant  in  print  up  to  that  time  in  the  English  language.  The  au- 
thor himself  expressly  disclaims  any  special  aptitude  for  that  branch  of 
fiction,  and  with  the  utmost  frankness  acknowledges  himself  to  have 
been  indebted  for  the  primary  conception  of  his  work  to  an  earlier 
and  independent  source,  the  Sancta  Sophia  of  the  Benedictine  Au- 
gustin  Baker.  Its  first  parentage  can  by  means  of  this  clue  be 
traced  back  to  the  "  Scala  Perfectionis"  of  Walter  Hilton,  a  Carthu- 
sian monk  of  the  fifteenth  centm-y^. 

The  allegorical  framework  or  plot  of  this  piece  is  really  held  in 
complete  subordination  to  the  sober  strain  of  moral  and  religious 
instruction  which  it  was  designed  to  inculcate.  Unlike  the  Pil- 
grim's Progress,  in  which  the  metaphorical  fiction  is  sustained  to 
the  end,  in  all  the  romantic  interest  of  a  real  history,  the  Parable, 

n>  In  his  autobiography  Patrick  states  that  it  was  published  at  the  close  of  the 
year  1664.  and  the  preface  is  dated  as  early  as  Dec.  14,  1663.  On  the  other 
hand  the  hnprimafiir  of  archbishop  Sancioft's  chaplain  is  dated  April  1 1,  1665, 
and  the  first  edition  bears  the  latter  date. 

"  See  the  editor's  note  on  vol.  iv.  p.  3. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxv 


under  a  thin  veil  of  dramatic  action,  seems  more  expressly  con- 
structed to  embody  a  grave  didactic  lesson. 

Southey's  criticism,  disparaging  as  it  may  be  thought  in  a  literary 
sense,  affords  perhaps  no  unfair  estimate  of  its  religious  value. 
"  Though  the  Parable,"  he  writes,  "  is  poorly  imagined  and  ill-sus- 
tained, there  is  a  great  deal  of  sound  instruction  conveyed  in  a  sober, 
manly,  and  not  unfi-equently  felicitous  manner." 

But  the  point  of  most  material  interest  connected  with  this  work 
of  Patrick's  will  now  be  held  to  lie  in  the  question,  What  affinity, 
if  any,  may  be  held  to  exist  between  the  Parable  and  its  great  con- 
temporary apologue  1  Was  it  the  means  of  furnishing  the  first  con- 
ception, the  title,  or  any  material  portion  of  either  plot  or  imagery 
towards  the  composition  of  the  Pilgiim's  Progi'ess  ?  That  one  of  the 
principal  charges  of  plagiarism  which  the  astounding  success  of 
Bunyan's  fiction  at  once  aroused  against  its  author  pointed  towards 
this  source,  is  familiar  to  every  student  of  literary  controversy". 

It  is  strange  that  Southey,  referring  to  many  more  recondite 
sources  fi-om  which  the  tinker  of  Elstow  might  with  but  the  faintest 
plausibility  be  surmised  to  have  drawn  the  materials  for  his  allegory, 
should  yet  have  passed  over  one  so  much  nearer  at  home ;  one  which 
is  so  far  more  suggestive  of  its  own  affinity,  and  to  which  attention 
had  already  been  drawn  by  popular  obsei-vation.  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
in  an  article  on  Southey's  Life  of  Bunyan  in  the  Quarterly  Review, 
notices  this  omission? ;  at  the  same  time  that  he  adduces  his  own 
reasons  for  dismissing  as  unworthy  of  credit  a  rumour  which  would 
tend  to  cast  upon  the  most  splendid  of  uninspired  allegories  the 
imputation  of  even  partial  or  unconscious  plagiarism.  It  must  be 
regi-etted  that  so  able  a  literary  censor  as  Scott  should  have  taken  so 
little  pains  to  prepare  himself  with  the  real  facts  of  the  case,  as  to 
have  rendered  worse  than  worthless  the  whole  framework  of  external 
proof  on  which  his  exculpation  is  based.  "  It  was  absolutely  impos- 
sible," he  argues,  "  for  Bunyan  to  have  been  acquainted  with  Patrick's 
work,  inasmuch  as  the  latter,  though  written  or  sketched  out  in  the 
year  1672,  was  not  published  till  1678,  whereas  Bunyan's  in  all 
probability  saw  the  light  as  early  as  1672."  A  twofold  mistake,  in- 
volving a  miscalculation  of  i4yeai-s,  is  involved  in  Scott's  argument. 

"  See  Chalmers'  Biographical  Dictionary,  art.  'Patrick.' 
r  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  xliii.  p.  482,  &c. 


Ixxvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


In  the  first  place,  it  is  now  kno^vn  that  the  first  edition  of  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  though  Sir  Walter  could  not  readily  have  learnt 
that  fact,  was  not  issued  till  1678,  the  second  appearing  in  the 
course  of  the  same  yearQ.  In  the  next,  as  he  might  easily  have 
ascertained  from  Patrick's  own  advertisement,  the  Parable  had  ap- 
peared at  least  as  early  as  1665.  The  term  of  Bunyan's  imprison- 
ment in  Bedford  gaol  extended  from  Nov.  12,  1660  to  June  1672. 
During  that  period  he  himself  asserts  his  book  to  have  been  written ; 
though  he  further  protests  that  the  entire  work  was  his  single  un- 
assisted composition,  and  that  the  only  volumes  of  which  he  was  able 
to  avail  himself  at  the  time  were  the  Bible  and  Foxe's  Martyi'ology. 

It  appears,  however,  that  considerable  latitude  of  action  was  per- 
mitted to  Bunyan  during  the  term  of  his  sentence.  Liberty  of 
preaching,  and  of  access  to  many  places  beyond  the  confines  of  the 
castle,  was  undoubtedly  extended  to  him  at  certain  times.  What 
then  more  probable  than  that  he  should  have  become  acquainted,  by 
rumour  at  least,  if  no  copy  came  into  his  hands,  with  a  work  already 
so  widely  spread  as  Patrick's  Parable  must  soon  have  been  f  ? 

The  title  and  general  outline  of  the  subject  might  at  all  events 
have  so  far  impressed  themselves  upon  his  imagination,  as,  even  with- 
out actually  perusing  the  volume  itself,  to  take  root  in  so  conge- 
nial a  soil,  and  germinate  almost  unconsciously,  through  a  similar 
training  of  ideas,  into  a  nobler  allegory  upon  the  same  theme,  and 
under  a  very  similar  designation. 

Nor  is  the  internal  evidence,  founded  upon  the  general  tenor  and 
structure  of  the  two  works  respectively,  so  wholly  conclusive  in  itself 
as  to  their  absolute  independence  of  each  other,  as  many  who  are 

<J  Since  Scott  and  Southey  wrote,  a  copy  of  the  first  edition  of  the  Pilgrim's 
Progi-ess,  till  then  unknown,  has  been  found  in  the  libraiy  of  K.  S.  Holford, 
Esq.  The  date  is  1678. — See  Pocock's  biographical  notice  prefixed  to  the 
illustrated  edition  of  Mr.  Selous,  and  cited  in  the  note  to  the  recent  reissue  of 
Southey 's  Essay,  8vo.  1844. 

'  Wilmot,  earl  of  Eochester,  in  his  "Satire  against  Man,"  in  imitation  of 
Boileau,  speaks  of  it  as  a  familiar  work. — 

  "  all  this  we  know 

From  the  pathetic  pen  of  Ingelo, 

From  Patrick's  Pilgrim,  Sibb's  Soliloquies." — 

Rochester's  Works,  p.  5. 

"Mrs.  Montagu  recommended  her  (Mrs.  Carter)  to  read  Patrick's  Pilgrim, 
and  she  was  delighted  with  it."— Mrs.  Carter's  Letters,  quoted  in  Southey'a 
Common  Place  Book,  3rd  series,  p.  555. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxvii 


exclusively  jealous  for  the  honour  of  the  great  Calvinistic  allegorist 
would  faiu  persuade  themselves.  Reduced  to  their  simplest  outlines, 
and  divested  of  the  external  clothing  and  integuments  with  which  the 
different  fancy  of  their  respective  authors  has  arrayed  the  primary 
skeleton  of  thought,  both  agree  in  one  ultimate  and  fundamental  idea. 

Both  alike  start  fi-om  the  conception  of  the  Christian  inquirer 
after  truth  setting  out  in  the  guise  and  under  the  name  of  a  Pilgrim 
in  pursuit  of  the  haven  of  peace  and  bliss,  the  heavenly  J erusalem. 
Each  of  the  two  wayfarers  stands  in  need  of  a  more  than  ordinary 
guide,  and  is  occupied  for  a  considerable  portion  of  his  travail  with 
the  anxious  endeavour  to  discover  and  retain  the  true  and  safe  one. 
"  Evangelist"  in  the  Progress  ia  the  precise  countertype  of  the 
"  guide"  in  the  Parable.  Reflecting  the  particular  doubts  and  perils 
which  beset  the  religious  inquirer  at  that  day,  neither  fiction  fails  to 
exhibit  the  traveller  exposed  to  snares  or  antagonists  emblematic  of 
the  great  sectarian  contests  of  the  time.  The  giants  Pope  and  Pagan, 
whom  Christian  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  has  to  encounter  in  succes- 
sion in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  death,  have  their  counterparts.  If 
of  less  fierce  and  gigantic  proportions,  in  the  two  bands  of  adventurers, 
who,  in  the  Parable,  strive  to  entrap  Theophilus,  or  Philotheus,  in  their 
snares  8.  One  party,  the  champions  of  Rome,  betray  the  design  of 
putting  out  the  Pilgrim's  eyes.  The  opposite  band,  whose  aim  is  to 
deprive  him  of  his  director  and  guide,  is  as  2>alpably  representative 
of  the  antlnomian  and  libertine  spirit,  which,  whether  springing 
from  the  wild  dreams  of  the  sectaries,  or  the  atheistic  tenets  of  the 
materialists,  threatened  to  subvert  the  whole  doctrine  and  fabric  of 
the  church.  Faithful  and  Hopeful,  Christian's  companions,  are  no 
less  obviously  to  be  regarded  as  reflections  from  Charity  and  Hu- 
mility in  Patrick's  earlier  apologue.  Further  parallelisms,  to  some  of 
which  Scott  has  himself  pointed,  as  proofs  of  the  difference  in  treat- 
ment which  characterizes  the  two  ^vl•iter8  (such  as  that  between  the 
banquet  scene  richly  elaborated  by  Bunyan,  and  the  "  frugal  dinner" 
simply  sketched  by  Pati-ick^),  may  on  the  other  hand  be  viewed  as  in- 
dicating a  real  community  of  thought  in  the  first  outline  of  the  plot. 

'  See  the  Parable  of  the  Pilgrim,  chap.  34.  vol.  iv.  pp.  315-323. 

•  Chap.  32.  vol.  iv.  p.  292.  Scott  was  in  fact  tempted  by  these  resemblances, 
mistaking  their  respective  dates,  to  transfer  the  onus  of  plagiarism  to  Patrick. 

Another  work  which  has  been  at  times  connected  with  the  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
viz.,  "The  Pilgrim's  Guide  fi-om  the  cradle  to  his  death-bed,"  by  John  Dunton, 
published  in  1683,  betrays  similar  signs  of  obligation  to  Patrick. 


Ixxviii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


In  the  end,  after  many  and  sore  conflicts  with  spiritual  foes,  within 
and  without,  the  soul  of  the  wanderer  receives  in  both  cases  the  same 
reward  of  its  faith  and  constancy,  in  the  fruition  of  that  vision  of 
peace  which  had  kindled  and  sustained  its  heavenward  aspirations. 

Without  presuming  to  institute  any  invidious  comparison  as  to 
intrinsic  merit  between  the  works  in  question,  there  is  no  violent 
improbability  in  assuming  that,  by  reading  or  hearsay  information, 
Bunyan  may  have  drawn  from  Patrick's  allegory  (published  eight 
years  before  his  release  from  prison,  and  fourteen  prior  to  the  publi- 
cation of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress)  the  germ  of  thought,  which,  under 
the  quickening  inspiration  of  his  loftier  genius,  was  destined  to 
throw  the  earlier  conception  into  comparative  obscurity.  Were  this 
hypothesis  capable  of  perfect  demonstrability,  it  were  a  truly  curious 
instance  of  the  permutations  which  literature  from  time  to  time  ex- 
hibits, to  trace  back  the  literary  parentage  of  the  great  Calvinistic 
allegory,  through  the  mediatory  offices  of  an  Anglican  prelate,  to 
its  primary  source  of  authorship  in  the  cell  of  a  Carthusian  monk. 

The  name  of  Walter  Hilton  must  at  all  events  in  justice  be  added 
to  the  list  of  those  earlier  allegorists,  in  whose  conceptions  later  com- 
mentators have  sought,  with  far  less  reason,  to  discover  the  first 
original  of  Bunyan's  immortal  work  '. 


Advice  to  a  Friend. 

This  little  moralistic  treatise  was  drawn  up  in  the  spring  of  the 
year  1673^,  with  an  especial  regard  to  the  spiritual  guidance  of  a 
young  lady  with  whom  Patrick  had  eight  years  before  contracted  a 
confidential  friendship,  under  circumstances  of  the  most  romantic 
interest ;  and  whom  he  was  destined,  after  two  more  years  of  pro- 
tracted solicitation,  to  succeed  in  making  his  wife.  The  original 
MS.  of  the  work,  consisting  of  a  slender  octavo  volume,  closely  but 
clearly  wi'itten,  has  been  preserved  do^vn  to  the  present  time,  amongst 
other  miscellaneous  papers  connected  with  the  author's  life  and  lite- 
rary labours,  which  have  been  employed  for  the  present  edition  of 
his  writings. 

"  A  list  of  the  chief  rival  claimants  is  given  in  the  preface  to  the  recent  edi- 
tion by  the  late  Mr.  N.  Hill  of  the  '  P^lerinage  de  rhomme'  of  Guillaume  de 
Guileville. 

*  See  Patrick's  Autobiography,  vol.  ix.  p  457. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxix 


In  the  course  of  preparation  for  the  press  the  first  draft  of  the 
tract  or  letter  was  subjected  to  a  few  modifications  of  no  great  im- 
portance. The  warm  tone  of  personal  affection  and  esteem  which 
breathes  through  evei-y  page  imparts  additional  force  and  persua- 
siveness to  the  admirable  counsels  Avhich  it  provides  for  the  due 
ordering  of  a  religious  life,  and  qualifies  it  to  rank  among  the 
choicest  examples  in  this  style  of  religious  composition.  Pure  and 
scriptural  in  its  pervading  mode  of  expression,  it  is  set  occasionally 
with  gems  of  great  beauty  in  the  form  of  classic  allusions  and  ori- 
ental maxims.  The  prayers  which  accompany  each  section  are  con- 
ceived in  the  author's  happiest  strain,  and  marked  by  intense  depth 
of  devotion  and  tenderness  of  feeling.  A  second  edition  came  out 
in  1674,  a  third  in  1687,  and  more  than  one  reprint  has  appeared 
within  the  present  generation. 


A  Treatise  of  Repentance  and  of  Fasting,  especially  of 
THE  Lent  Fast. 

The  want  of  a  manual  for  the  use  of  members  of  the  church,  upon 
a  subject  so  essentially  bound  up  with  the  practice  of  Christianity 
as  that  of  Repentance,  and  the  ecclesiastical  rules  proper  to  the  ex- 
ercise of  self-denial  and  nioi-tificatlon,  induced  the  wi'iter  to  put  forth 
this  useful  compendium  in  the  year  1685-6.  His  design  in  witing 
it  was  not,  as  he  states,  to  produce  a  "  learned  book,"  or  a  manual 
of  controversy,  so  much  as  one  "  of  regular  piety,  and  for  common 
use."  In  handling  a  matter  at  once  so  important  and  so  difficult  as 
the  true  nature  and  conditions  of  Christian  Penitence,  Patrick's  doc- 
trinal statements  are  conspicuous  for  sobriety  and  moderation ;  and 
his  method  of  viewing  it,  in  practical  combination  vnth  its  great 
correlative  virtue.  Faith,  eminently  clear  and  scriptural.  The  origin 
and  history  of  the  observance  of  Lent,  with  the  object  and  significance 
of  corporeal  exercises  and  restraints,  such  as  those  of  fasting  and  ab- 
stinence, in  aid  of  the  abstract  dispositions  of  contrition  and  amend- 
ment, are  traced  with  much  precision,  and  enforced  by  a  reference 
to  the  most  judicious  and  seasonable  authorities.  The  doctrines 
inculcated,  and  external  rules  laid  down  for  the  guidance  of  the 
penitent,  are  in  strictest  accord  with  the  apostolic  regimen  of  the 
church  of  England.  They  will  be  found  equally  distant  ft'om  a  formal 
and  mona.stic  rigour,  as  from  an  antinomian  contempt  for  those  out- 


Ixxx 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


ward  ordinances  and  disciplinary  rules,  to  which  the  wisdom  of  the 
church  in  all  ages  has  lent  the  force  of  its  sanction. 

A  reprint  of  this  valuable  treatise  was  put  forth  at  Oxfoi'd  in 
1840,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Rev.  F.  E.  Paget,  another  in  1847. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Prayer,  especially  of  frequent- 
ing THE  DAILY  PUBLIC  PRAYERS,  in  twO  parts. 

On  no  subject  connected  with  the  practical  aspect  of  religion  have 
so  many  disquisitions  been  written  as  on  that  of  Prayer.  Without 
pretending  to  special  originality  of  design,  or  superior  eloquence  of 
language,  Patrick's  discourse  upon  that  primary  constituent  of 
Christian  practice  may  be  safely  recommended  as  second  to  few 
which  have  either  preceded  or  followed  it,  whether  in  fidelity  of  doc- 
trine, earnestness  of  feeling,  or  profound  acquaintance  with  the  needs 
of  the  human  heart.  It  is  the  calm  and  reverential  work  of  a  man 
who  has  gained  an  experimental  insight  into  the  sources  and  work- 
ings of  the  devotional  spirit,  and  can  proclaim  by  personal  guarantees 
that  the  effectual  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  availeth  much. 
Every  page  forms  a  witness  to  the  elevating  effects  wrought  upon  a 
meek  and  trustful  heart,  by  habitual  converse  >vith  the  Spirit  of 
God. 

The  first  part  of  the  discourse  treats  of  Private  Devotions ;  prepara- 
tory to  the  second,  in  which  the  nature,  ends,  and  value  of  Public  or 
Common  Prayer  are  earnestly  and  convincingly  demonstrated.  The 
supreme  value  attached  by  God  himself  to  the  united  prayers  of  a 
Christian  congregation,  even  where  two  or  three  a/re  gathered  together 
in  the  name  of  Christ, — the  enhanced  advantage  derived  by  the 
worshippers  from  mutual  communion  in  this  sacred  office, — the  ne- 
cessity of  public  prayers  to  the  very  existence  of  a  church,  as  evinced 
by  Scriptural  and  historical  testimony ; — these  points  are  touched 
upon  in  succession  with  great  clearness  of  statement  and  power  of 
persuasion.  In  conclusion,  the  writer  adverts  with  sobriety  and 
thoughtfulness  to  the  obligation  laid  by  the  ritual  of  the  church 
upon  her  members  generally,  and  those  of  the  clerical  body  in  par- 
ticular, towards  daily  attendance  upon  the  public  ministrations  of 
divine  service. 

The  superior  strictness  both  of  the  Jewish  and  early  Christian 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxxi 


cburches  in  the  diurnal  worship  of  God,  and  the  cause  of  the  com- 
parative laxity  of  later  ages  in  that  observance,  especially  since  the 
epoch  of  the  reformation,  fiirnish  occasion  for  serious,  not  to  say 
humiliating  reflections.  Patrick's  own  unwearied  diligence,  as  well 
by  personal  example  as  by  pressing  exhortation,  towards  bringing 
back  a  more  primitive  and  apostolic  standard  of  liturgical  con- 
formity, enabled  him  to  speak  with  the  authority  and  weight  of  a 
father  of  the  church  to  a  cold  and  indifferent  generation. 

To  the  complaints  of  dissenters  from  the  church's  system,  who 
still  persisted,  though  with  mitigated  asperity,  in  objecting  to  a 
settled  ritual,  as  "  stinting  the  spirit,"  and  "  legalising  devotion,"  he 
replies  by  setting  forth  the  far  preponderating  advantages  of  a 
stated  liturgy,  and  justifies  the  claims  of  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer  by  an  appeal  to  the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture  and  the 
universal  voice  of  the  church  catholic  in  all  ages. 

The  Discourse  concerning  Prayer  was  first  published  in  the  year 
1686.  A  second  impression  appeared  in  1705.  The  more  recent 
reprints  have  been  numerous,  one  under  the  care  of  the  Rev.  F.  E. 
Paget,  as  a  compsmion  to  the  Treatise  on  Repentance,  in  the  year  1 840. 


Jewish  Hypocrisy,  a  caveat  to  the  present  generation. 

The  fifth  volume  commences  the  series  of  Patrick's  polemical 
treatises,  which  are  arranged  in  order  of  publication,  commencing 
with  those  directed  against  puritanic  dissent.  The  earliest  of  these 
consisted  in  the  first  instance  of  a  Sermon  preached  before  the 
University  of  Cambridge  on  a  fast  day  in  the  year  i657y,  and  pub- 
lished in  the  following  year  under  the  pseudonym  of  "  Ric.  Patius," 
bearing  the  title  of  "  The  Hypocritical  Nation  described,"  and  pre- 
ceded by  a  prefatory  letter  from  the  pen  of  Samuel  Jacomb. 

Patrick's  chief  motive  for  this  energetic  protest  against  the  domi- 
nant religionism  of  the  time  arose  from  indignation  at  what  he  could 
not  but  consider  the  faithless  and  tyrannical  conduct  of  Cromwell's 

y  This  sermon,  although  entirely  reproduced  in  the  course  of  the  larger 
treatise,  is  interesting  enough  as  the  first  specimen  of  Patrick's  composition 
extant,  and  first  vigorous  exponent  of  his  sentiments,  to  claim  a  separate  place 
in  the  series.  It  has  accordingly  been  printed  in  its  proper  order  as  the  earliest 
of  his  Sennons,  vol  vii.  pp.  405-454. 

f 


Ixxxii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


government  in  the  ordinances  of  1655.  Under  covert  of  the  neces- 
sity for  a  national  militia,  a  heavy  blow  was  aimed  at  the  royalist 
party,  by  lajing  upon  them  exclusively  the  whole  burden  of  the  rate 
for  the  levy  and  support  of  that  force.  A  general  inquisition  and 
denouncement  of  delinquents  was  thus  authorized.  Numbers  of  the 
most  quiet  and  peaceable  loyalists  were  exposed  to  fresh  exactions 
and  penalties,  who  had  already,  as  they  were  led  to  believe,  pur- 
chased by  their  composition  the  right  to  equal  sufference  and  im- 
munity. "  The  truth,"  says  Patrick,  "  is,  my  spirit  was  so  stirred 
against  the  hypocrisy  of  that  faction,  which  had  lately  decimated 
those  loyal  persons  who  were  admitted  before  to  compound  for  their 
delinquency,  (as  they  called  it,)  that  I  made  a  vehement  discourse 
against  the  hypocrisy  of  fasting  and  prayer,  when  we  continue  unjust 
and  oppress  our  neighbours  z." 

At  the  request  of  Dr.  Worthington,  Patrick  two  years  afterwards 
decided  on  expanding  this  discourse  into  a  larger  treatise,  and 
published  it,  with  a  dedication  to  his  patrons  the  St.  John's,  under 
its  present  title,  just  at  the  crisis  of  the  restoration.  In  a  close 
and  well  sustained  parallel  the  hypocritical  pretensions  of  the  Jewish 
formalists,  both  in  the  earlier  period  of  their  history,  and  in  the  time 
of  our  Saviour,  are  compared  with  those  of  their  modern  antitypes, 
the  sanctimonious  professors  of  puritan  precision.  Their  devotion  to 
the  externals  of  religion,  and  deadness  to  its  secret  influence ;  their 
scrupulous  study  of  the  letter,  and  forgetfulness  of  the  spirit  of  the 
divine  law ;  their  formal  fastings,  and  soulless  rites ;  their  austere 
demeanour,  and  affected  phraseology,  furnish  materials  for  de- 
nouncing the  evils  of  Pharisaism  in  its  latest,  no  less  than  in  its 
original  phase.  Considering  the  prevalence  and  strength  of  the  pre- 
judices thus  attacked,  the  boldness  and  independence  of  tone  dis- 
played by  so  young  a  writer,  shuiming  all  disguise,  while  exposing 
the  spiritual  vices  of  his  age,  is  the  point  which  most  strikes  us  in 
reading  this  eloquent  and  learned  disquisition. 

A  second  discourse,  of  a  cognate  nature,  upon  Micah  vi.  8,  forms 
an  appendix  to  "  Jewish  Hypocrisy."  It  is  entitled  "  The  Epitome 
OF  Man's  Duty,  where  the  hyijocritical  people  are  briefly  directed 
how  to  please  God."  The  extent  and  depth  of  the  author's  reading, 
ancient  and  modern,  classical  and  rabbinical,  are  strikingly  illus- 
trated in  the  composition  of  both  these  treatises.  That  they  failed  to 

Vol.  ix.  p.  431. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Ixxxiii 


meet  with  that  measure  of  public  notice  which  might  have  been 
prognosticated,  was  greatly  due  to  the  magnitude  of  the  crisis  in 
public  affairs  at  which  they  appeared.  The  ultra-presbyterians  were 
too  much  occupied  with  the  vicissitudes  which  the  restoration  of  the 
church  seemed  likely  to  inflict  upon  their  pai'ty,  to  repel  a  merely 
literary  attack.  On  the  part  of  the  public  the  work  was  "  not  much 
minded,  (to  use  the  author's  words,)  at  that  time  of  overflowing  joy 
wheremth  the  nation  was  filled."  Only  one  more  impression,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  first,  was  demanded,  being  issued  in  the  year  1670. 


A  Friendly  Debate  betwixt  two  neighbours,  the  one  a 
Conformist,  the  other  a  Non-Conformist,  about  several 
weighty  matters  ;  in  three  parts,  with  an  Appendix  and 
Postscript,  and  a  letter  to  the  author  of  the  Ecclesi- 
astical Policy. 

The  first  part,  or  original  draft,  of  the  Friendly  Debate  was  writ- 
ten in  the  year  1668,  licensed  for  the  press  Nov.  7,  and  entered  at 
Stationers'  Hall  Nov.  26.  The  titlepage  of  the  volume,  a  small  8vo. 
bears  date  1669.  Its  circulation  was  rapid  and  extensive,  no  less 
than  five  impressions  having  been  called  for  during  the  same  year. 
It  was  followed  up  by  the  publication,  in  the  spring  of  that  year,  of 
the  Second  Part,  or  Continuation,  dated  April  15,  1669,  uni- 
formly with  which  the  first  part  was  for  the  fifth  time  reprinted. 

The  design  of  the  writer  is  explained  in  general  terms  in  his  pre- 
face to  the  sixth  edition,  published  in  1684.  "  As  it  was  written  to 
take  down  the  pride  and  insolence  wherewith  the  Nonconfonnists 
began  at  that  time  to  treat  us,  and  to  persuade  men  to  conform 
themselves  to  the  established  orders,  so  to  give  them  withal  a  tr-ue 
notion  of  religion,  to  preserve  them  from  being  abused  with  phrases, 
to  instruct  them  in  many  parts  of  their  Christian  duty,  to  inform  them 
wherein  Christianity  doth  chiefly  consist,  and  what  will  make  them 
thoroughly  good ;  and  particularly  how  necessary  a  part  of  Christian 
piety  it  is  to  obey  the  public  laws,  which  no  way  contradict  the  laws 
of  God,  and  to  live  in  unity  with  their  Christian  brethren.  What 
is  to  be  done  also  for  the  restoring  of  this  unity  is  here  declared 

a  Vol.  V.  p.  255. 

f  2 


Ixxxiv  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Burnet  and  other  contemporaiy  writers  throw  additional  light 
upon  the  juncture  of  affairs  which  induced  so  sharp  an  attack  upon 
the  tenets  and  characteristics  of  the  most  popular  Nonconformist 
teachers. 

The  tactics  of  the  dissenting  leaders  had  reached  at  that  time 
their  climax  of  boldness  and  ambition.  The  king  was  by  natural 
temperament  indifferent  to  all  considerations  of  a  religious  nature 
alike.  Among  the  influential  statesmen  about  the  court  some  were 
influenced  by  real  sentiments  of  the  widest  toleration,  in  wishing  to 
see  Nonconformists  indulged  in  perfect  immunity,  and  a  way  speed- 
ily devised  for  comprehending  a  large  section  of  them  within  the 
pale  of  the  establishment.  An  opposite  party,  under  the  patronage 
of  the  duke  of  York,  intrigued  for  the  nominal  removal  of  all  re- 
strictions upon  liberty  of  conscience  and  worship,  from  no  lenient 
feeling  towards  protestant  dissent,  but  with  the  covert  design  of  se- 
curing uninterrupted  scope  for  the  machinations  of  popery.  Em- 
boldened by  these  various  signs  of  encouragement,  the  presbyterian 
and  independent  leaders  began  openly  to  raise  themselves  above  the 
laws  which  had  been  enacted  for  their  restraint,  and  to  assume 
much  of  their  old  attitude  of  the  palmy  times  when  the  Church  lay 
at  their  mercy. 

Efforts  of  corresponding  activity  and  zeal  were  naturally  forced 
upon  the  friends  of  the  church,  for  resisting  these  encroachments  on 
its  legal  status.  By  the  exertions  of  one  party  fresh  efficacy  was 
imparted  to  the  penal  enactments  and  disabilities  which  had  for  a 
while  slumbered  in  the  statute  books.  On  the  i6th  of  July  1668,  a 
proclamation  was  issued,  calling  attention  to  the  statutes  for  the  re- 
straint of  nonconformity,  which  were  thenceforth  to  be  carried  into 
effect  with  greater  stringency  than  before.  For  this  proclamation 
the  thanks  of  both  houses  of  parliament  were  voted  to  the  crown, 
on  the  sixth  of  November.  In  the  spring  of  the  following  year  the 
Oxford  act  was  formally  reenacted  with  clauses  of  increased  severity^. 

Besides  these  weapons  of  civil  rigour,  other  modes  of  a  less  for- 
cible kind  were  employed  by  a  different  class  of  defenders  of  the 
church. 

Patrick,  for  one,  was  inspired  by  the  sincere  wish  to  work  upon 
the  great  mass  of  dissent  by  way  of  remonstrance,  pointing  out  the 
true  nature  of  the  church's  system,  and  the  hollowness  and  falsehood 
^  Echard,  iii.  300-301. 


EDITOirS  PilEFACE. 


Ixxxv 


of  the  cavils  which  her  enemies  had  propagated  against  her.  Ex- 
posing the  insincere  arts  of  many  of  the  most  noisy  detractors  from 
the  authority  of  the  church  and  the  law,  and  the  dangerous  conse- 
quences to  which  their  open  Antinomianism  must  conduce,  he  aimed 
at  separating  between  the  extreme  demagogues  and  their  flocks ; 
showing  that  the  pleas  of  the  modern  separatists  derived  no  sanction 
from  the  precedent  of  the  earlier  fathers  of  presbytery,  whose  ground 
of  quarrel  had  in  a  great  measure  ceased  to  exist ;  and  explaining 
away  the  imaginary  objections  which  still  kept  numbers  of  the 
more  moderate  presbyterians  from  conforming  to  the  established 
order. 

During  the  same  year  was  organized  the  well  intentioned  but 
eventually  abortive  scheme  of  Wilkins,  Bridgman,  Hale,  and  others 
of  the  liberal  party  in  the  church,  for  the  recovery  of  the  less  extra- 
vagant section  of  nonconformists  by  means  of  the  measure  known  as 
the  Bill  of  Comprehension.  To  this  design  Patrick,  and  many  others 
not  less  liberally  inclined  among  the  clergy,  were  not  disposed  to 
give  their  adherence  c.  They  were  for  preparing  the  way,  in  the  first 
instance,  for  salutary  reforms,  by  removing  the  current  misconcep- 
tions of  the  church's  system,  and  giving  full  scope  to  her  existing 
institutions,  before  surrendering  her  integrity  to  changes,  the  need 
of  which  had  not  yet  been  proved. 

Satisfied  that  many  of  the  grievances  most  prominently  dwelt 
upon  by  the  puritan  malcontents  were  wholly  imaginary  and  unreal, 
they  were  convinced  that  no  such  scheme  of  external  compromise 
would  permanently  meet  the  exigency  of  the  time.  The  real  springs 
of  antagonism  on  the  part  of  those  requisitionists  lay  deeper  than 
their  ostensible  comjilaints  of  the  church's  external  organization. 
The  question  actually  at  issue  involved  nothing  less  than  the  admis- 
sion into  the  established  pale  of  so  large  an  element  of  Calvinistic 
opinion  as  to  change  the  whole  tenor  of  Anglican  doctrine  and 
polity.  A  genuine  Arminian,  Patrick  was  not  disposed  to  look  with 
indifference  at  the  prospect  of  fatally  unsettling  the  existing  balance 
of  theological  sentiment  within  the  chm-ch.  Cherishing  a  strong 
attachment  to  the  usages  and  discipline,  no  less  than  the  theology  of 
the  first  ages,  he  was  not  inclined  to  surrender  them  lightly  for  the 

c  A  brief  account  of  the  attempt  at  comprehension  then  made,  and  subse- 
quently renewed  with  the  same  futile  result,  will  be  found  in  a  note  on  the 
Friendly  Debate,  vol.  v.  p.  257. 


Ixxxvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


modern  equivalents  of  Geneva.  In  the  veiy  latitude  and  liberality 
of  his  views  there  was  rooted  a  deep  antipathy  to  a  profession  of  be- 
lief, which,  like  that  of  the  puritan  faction,  would  never  rest  till  it  had 
narrowed  the  terms  of  communion  to  its  own  most  meagre  defi- 
nition. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  in  opposing  himself  to  the  temporary 
expedient  of  a  comprehension,  so  far  fi-om  acting  inconsistently  with 
his  general  character  for  breadth  and  liberality  of  mind,  Patrick's 
conduct  was  but  in  exact  uniformity  with  his  known  philosophical 
and  theological  preferences.  In  the  whole  temper  and  bias  of  the 
presbji;ei'ian  agitation  he  was  sensible  of  a  more  serious  barrier  to 
union  than  could  be  thrown  down  by  tampering  with  the  traditive 
terms  of  ordination,  or  by  merely  suppressing  or  modifying  inci- 
dental points  of  ritual  and  ceremony.  To  the  latter  class  of  ques- 
tions he  was  at  all  times  disposed  to  bring  a  generous  spirit  of  con- 
cession. But  he  foresaw  an  exclusive  ascendancy  about  to  be  given 
to  a  system  of  doctrines,  which  had  enjoyed  indeed  its  share  of  repre- 
sentation in  the  Anglican  standards  and  formularies,  but  had  ever 
been  balanced  and  presei'\'ed  in  check  by  a  stronger  element  of  earlier 
di\anity.  Those  tenets,  if  allowed  increasing  and  um-estricted  scope, 
would  end  by  compromising  the  chmx-h  in  relation  to  catholic 
Christendom ;  and  deprive  her  of  her  most  powei'ful  ground  of  van- 
tage against  the  innovations  of  Rome,  by  eliminating  all  that  was 
distinctively  primitive  and  apostolic  from  her  teaching  and  economy. 

The  sagacity  of  these  views  was  before  long  verified  to  a  gi'eat 
extent  by  the  overt  tactics  of  the  presbji;erians  themselves.  Their 
increasing  and  exorbitant  demands,  not  less  than  the  egotistical  and 
aggrandizing  temper  of  their  leaders,  tended  to  alienate  the  sym- 
pathy and  support  of  the  most  forward  promulgators  of  comprehen- 
sion. Owen  and  the  independents  Avere  indeed  far  from  averse  to 
close  with,  the  profiered  terms  of  accommodation.  Not  so  Baxter 
and  the  presbj-tery.  Nothing  less  than  an  independent  liturgy  of 
their  own,  in  which  the  spirit  of  the  old  directory  spoke  throughout, 
and  no  trace  of  the  gi-eat  antecedents  of  Christendom  anterior  to  the 
reformation  was  permitted  to  linger,  would  appease  the  party  whose 
ritual  tastes,  and  whose  ideal  of  the  saintly  and  the  apostolic,  centred 
in  Cahan  and  Knox  rather  than  Chrysostom  and  Basil.  Even 
Bridgman  and  Wilkins  ceased  ere  long  to  father  the  attempt. 

Ten  years  later,  when  the  temper  of  nonconformity  had  become 


EDlTOirS  PREFACE. 


Ixxxvii 


less  hostile,  and  its  pretensions  less  ambitious  and  exacting,  while 
the  overt  acts  of  the  court  for  the  restoration  of  popery  began  to 
draw  together  the  whole  protestant  community  by  the  ties  of  a  com- 
mon danger,  the  project  of  comprehension,  revived  by  Sancroft,  met 
with  the  support  of  Patrick,  as  of  many  others  who  had  before  kept 
aloof.  But  at  this  earlier  period  he  judged  such  policy,  to  say  the 
least,  premature.  Bent  upon  exposing  the  hollowness  and  frivolity 
of  those  pretexts  which  were  put  forth  as  justifying  dissent,  and  upon 
unmasking  to  the  separatists  themselves  the  inflated  and  arrogant  as- 
sumptions of  many  of  their  forward  professors,  he  published  his  brief 
but  cogent  pamphlet,  the  Friendly  Debate,  under  the  anonymous 
disguise  of  "  a  lover  of  truth  and  justice."  "  My  intention  in  it,"  he 
declares,  "  was  sincere,  to  persuade  them  in  a  kind  manner  to  join 
with  us,  at  least  not  to  have  us  in  contempt,  as  if  they  were  the  only 
godly,  and  we  at  the  best  but  moral  men  (as  they  called  us)  who  had 
not  the  grace  of  God  in  us  d." 

The  Friendly  Debate  met  with  the  strong  approbation  of  arch- 
bishop Sheldon,  who  had  extracted  the  secret  of  its  authorship  from 
Royston,  Patrick's  publisher.  It  laid  the  foundation  of  a  lasting- 
confidence  and  patronage  on  the  part  of  the  jjrimate  towards  the 
writer.  As  regards  the  public,  eagerly  as  the  book  was  read,  the 
incognito  remained  for  years  unpenetrated.  In  its  effect  upon  the 
dissenters,  the  work  was  indeed  far  from  conducing  to  peace  and  con- 
ciliation. This  was  in  a  great  measure  to  be  attributed  to  the  tone  of 
sharpness,  and  even  of  ridicule,  in  which  the  writer  fi-eely  indulged, 
especially  in  the  later  portions  of  the  series.  Its  style  is  certainly  in 
places  such  as  would  now  be  likely  to  commend  itself  to  the  taste  of 
none  but  the  lowest  denomination  of  controversialists.  No  greater 
sign  need  be  adduced  of  the  advance  which  two  centuries  have 
effected  in  general  civilization,  and  in  corresponding  refinement  of 
manners,  than  the  comparative  decorum  with  which  the  polemics 
of  even  the  most  hostile  parties  in  religion  are  now  habitually  con- 
ducted. 

The  voice  of  public  reprobation  would  now  visit  every  attempt  to 
disguise  the  sacredness  and  importance  of  such  a  subject  by  the  use 
of  pleasantry  and  banter,  or  to  prejudice  a  theological  opponent  by 
holding  up  his  opinions  and  practices,  far  less  his  personal  or  profes- 


Vol.  ix.  p.  450. 


Ixxxviii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


sional  singularities,  to  raillery  or  contempt.  A  liberal  allowance 
must,  however,  in  fairness  be  made  for  the  manners  of  a  period  when 
the  spirit  of  party,  even  in  its  most  lenient  and  charitable  form,  was 
but  partly  conscious  of  those  checks  which  society,  by  its  progress  in 
enlightenment  and  morals,  has  since  imposed  upon  itself.  Sarcastic 
description  and  witty  repartee  were  as  yet  held  no  unlicensed  or  un- 
seemly implement  for  branding  an  antagonist,  or  demolishing  a  theo- 
logical position.  Not  only  fi-oni  the  press,  but  from  the  more  sacred 
precincts  of  the  pulpit,  language  alternately  fierce  and  derisive, 
threatening  and  ironical,  was  listened  to  Avithout  surprise.  An  age 
which  welcomed  -with  delighted  laughter  the  comic  portraiture  ■  of 
pm-itan  eccentricities  in  the  rhythmical  caricature  of  Hudibras,  and 
heard  without  wonder  or  indignation,  that  mimicry  of  the  singu- 
larities of  precisionist  preachers  had  furnished  matter  of  diversion  to 
gi-ave  audiences  in  the  archiepiscopal  halls  of  Lambeth  6,  were  not 
likely  to  be  very  sternly  revolted  when  the  same  ironical  and  con- 
temptuous strain  was  taken  up  by  an  anonjTnous  pen  in  contro- 
versial prose.  No  single  expression  in  the  whole  com'se  of  the 
Friendly  Debate  could,  after  all,  be  compared  for  virulence  or  exag- 
geration Avith  the  habitual  efiiisions  of  contemporary  pamphleteers, 
such  as  Parker  or  L'Estrange;  still  less  wth  the  scurrilous  and  in- 
decent diatribes  which  were  continually  being  flung  out  by  the  sec- 
tarian press,  numberless  instances  of  which  are  here  accumulated  by 
Patrick  himself  Nor  could  an  uniformly  gi\ave  and  fastidious  treat- 
ment be  stipulated  for,  as  of  right,  by  a  party  which  had  first  set  the 
precedent  of  vulgar  freaks  of  -wit,  and  facetious  parody  of  scripture 
phi-ase,  in  discoursing  even  upon  the  most  sacred  themes,  and  on  the 
most  solemn  occasions. 

Patrick's  keen  and  elaborate  exposure  of  the  principles  of  his  op- 
ponents, almost  in  their  own  language,  sustained  at  every  step  by 
confirmatory  extracts  from  Avritings  of  their  favourite  organs,  could 
not  but  tell  with  immense  effect  upon  the  popular  mind,  which  had 
for  some  time  been  tm-ning  against  the  pm-itan  schism.  Hence  the 
rapid  demand  for  five  editions  in  the  first  year.  The  author's  wish, 
however,  which  was  not  to  \viden,  but  to  bridge  over  the  breach,  was 
unfortunately  not  destined  to  be  realized.  "  The  three  volumes  of 
the  Friendly  Debate,"  Burnet  writes,  "  though  wi-it  by  a  very  good 

e  See  Pepys's  Diary,  May  14,  1669  ;  quoted  by  Buckle,  History  of  Civiliza- 
tion, vol.  i.  p.  358. 


EDITOR'S  PKEFACE. 


Ixxxix 


man,  and  \vith  a  good  intent,  had  an  ill  effect  in  sharpening  people's 
spirits  too  much  against  theni^." 

Bm-net  gives  his  opinion  of  Patrick  elsewhere,  with  the  present 
work  in  view,  as  having  been  "  a  little  too  severe  against  those  who 
differed  from  him.  But  that  was  when  he  thought  their  doctrines 
struck  at  the  fundamentals  of  religion.  He  became  afterwards 
more  moderated." 

In  his  Life  of  Dr.  Manton,  Patrick's  predecessor  in  the  rectory 
of  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden,  and  subsequently  a  nonconformist, 
Harris  says  that  "  it  has  been  generally  allowed  that  Dr.  Patrick 
wrote  the  first  volumes  of  the  Friendly  Debate  in  the  heat  of  his 
youth,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  expectations  ;  which,  by  aggravating 
some  weak  and  incautious  expressions  in  a  few  particular  writers, 
designed  to  expose  the  nonconformist  ministry  to  contempt  and  ridi- 
cule. The  design  was  afterwards  carried  on  by  a  worse  hand  (bishop 
Parker)  and  with  a  more  virulent  spirit^."  Hams  subjoins  that 
Patrick  himself,  in  his  advanced  age,  took  the  opportunity  aflPorded 
him  by  the  debate  upon  the  Occasional  Bill,  in  order  to  express  his 
"  regret  for  the  warmth  with  which  he  had  written  against  the  dis- 
senters in  his  younger  years'." 

'  Burnet's  Own  Time,  i.  451.  Lewis  du  Moulin,  a  rigid  Calvinist  and  inde- 
pendent, in  his  "Appeal  of  all  the  Non-conformists  in  England,"  printed  in 
1680,  complained,  that  "several  bishops  and  doctors  of  the  Church  of  England, 
as  Dr.  Lloyd,  Dr.  Tillotson,  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  Dr.  Patrick,  that  are  acknow- 
ledged by  the  Non-conformists  to  be  persons  of  great  learning  and  worth  and 
piety,  but  who  are  extreme  admirers  of  the  episcopacy  of  England,  and  all  its 
consequences,  and  who  have  also  preferred  its  government  to  all  other  esta- 
blishments in  Europe,  have  by  an  unlucky  accident  contributed  more  towards 
the  reputation  of  the  English  hierarchy  and  its  practices,  and  towards  the  per- 
petuating the  feuds  and  quarrels  between  the  Conformists  and  the  Non-Con- 
formists, than  it  had  been  possible  for  any  other  corrupted  party  to  do  by  all 
their  irregularities  and  advances  towards  Rome." — Quoted  by  Birch,  p.  33. 
On  his  death-bed,  in  the  same  year,  Du  Moulin  recanted  in  the  presence  of 
Burnet  and  Patrick  these  and  similar  expressions  in  which  he  had  reflected  upon 
the  clergy  named. — See  vol.  ix.  p.  474. 

S  Vol.  i.  p.  326.  Patrick's  moderation  became  in  effect  the  means  of  bring- 
ing upon  him,  at  a  later  period,  the  calumnious  charge  of  "  openly  favouring 
the  dissenters,  and  promoting  none  but  those  who  were  of  that  way  of  think- 
ing."— See  Neal's  Puritans,  iv.  387,  Chalmers,  and  Wharton's  notes  in  the 
Lansdowne  MSS.  987,  fol.  294. 

h  Harris's  Life  of  Manton,  p.  33.    Compare  Sylvester,  iii.  39;  Orme,  i.  339. 

>  Patrick's  expressions,  as  reported  by  Harris,  will  be  seen  in  a  note  on  that 
passage  in  his  Autobiography,  vol.  ix.  p.  554. 


xc 


EDlTOirS  PREFACE. 


The  reflections  of  Sir  Mattliew  Hale,  to  whom  Patrick  stood  op- 
posed on  the  question  of  comprehension,  and  who  dreaded  the  effect 
of  the  Friendly  Debate  in  exasperating  the  dissenters,  were  the  cause 
of  much  mortification  to  the  author.  The  chief  justice,  as  reported  by 
Baxter,  even  went  the  length  of  insinuating  that  its  vehemence  of 
language  was  prompted  by  motives  of  self  interest.  In  his  preface 
to  the  last  reprint,  Avritten  in  November  1683,  Patrick  relieves  him- 
self fi-om  this  aspersion,  and  demonstrates  that  his  conduct  at  that 
crisis,  opposed  as  it  was  to  the  overt  policy  of  the  crown  and  cabinet, 
had  actually  the  effect  of  compromising  and  retarding  his  profes- 
sional prospects.  At  the  same  time  he  considered  himself  entitled 
to  draw  fi'om  the  recent  treasonable  attempt  at  the  Rye-house  a 
confirmation  of  what  he  had  ventured  to  prognosticate  of  the  pre- 
valent antinomian  spirit,  which  led  the  age  to  chafe  under  the  re- 
straints of  the  law  and  the  church'^. 

A  hasty  and  intemperate  reply  to  Patrick's  allegations  against  the 
dissenters  came  out  shortly  after  the  publication  of  the  Second  Part. 
It  was  entitled  "  A  Sober  Answer  to  the  Friendly  Debate  between  a 
Conformist  and  a  JSTon-Conformist,  wi-itten  by  way  of  letter  to  the 
author  thereof,  by  Philagathus :"  a  bulky  tract  of  294  pages  in  small 
8vo.  The  preface  is  dated  June  i,  1669.  This  work,  fidl  of  inac- 
curate statements  and  \Tilgar  personalities,  was  before  long  generally 
known  to  be  the  production  of  Dr.  Samuel  Rolls,  a  presbyterian  di- 
vine, who  had  been  sometime  a  fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, and  was  at  this  time  zealous  for  nonconformity;  though  at  a 
subsequent  period  he  claims  to  have  felt,  even  at  this  date,  a  secret 
attachment  to  the  church  I  Among  the  Tanner  papers  in  the  Bod- 
leian Liljrary  is  a  supplicatory  letter  fi-om  Rolls  to  ai'chbishop  San- 
croft,  dated  Ajiril  6,  1678,  in  which  he  exjiresses  his  willingness  to 
be  admitted  into  communion  with  the  church  of  England,  with  very 
little  concealment  as  to  the  jirice  at  which  his  conformity  was  to  be 
secured ;  and  protests  that  it  had  been  his  intention  to  conform  ten 
years  before,  had  his  merits  and  claims  not  been  blindly  overlooked. 
His  subserviency  appears  at  length  to  have  met  with  its  stipulated 
recognition.  On  the  titlepage  of  two  Discourses  published  in  that 
year  under  the  title  of  "  Loyalty  and  Peace,"  in  which  he  loudly  re- 
probates the  crime  of  rebellion,  and  the  murder  of  the  late  king, 
Rolls  is  designated  as  "  Chaplain  in  ordinary  to  his  majesty,"  and  in 
l<  See  vol.  V.  p.  ■256.  '  See  vol.  vi.  p.  3. 


EDITOR  S  PREFACE. 


XCl 


a  fulsome  letter  to  Ai'lingtou,  lord  chamberlain,  pours  forth  his 
thanks  for  the  honour  recently  paid  him.  lu  the  interval  preceding 
the  restoration,  Rolls  appears  to  have  been  entrusted  with  some 
commission  of  a  judicial  kind,  or  to  have  exercised  magisterial  func- 
tions, possibly  for  the  detection  of  malignants :  since  in  a  return  sent 
in  to  the  council  of  state,  and  still  extant  among  the  records  in  the 
privy  council  office  at  Whitehall,  a  memorandum  has  been  found  by 
the  editor  to  the  effect  that  "  Samuel  Rolls  heard  the  examination  of 
JohnKirke  and  Martin  Parr  at  Balbrough,  Oct.  24,  1650." 

Baxter  states,  to  the  same  effect,  that  he  had  been  minister  at 
Thistleworth,  and  was  "  so  near  conformity  that  he  had  taken  the 
Oxford  oath™,  read  the  Common  Prayer,  and  preached  at  a  hospital 
in  Southwark  at  £40  per  annum,  and  expected  a  better  place  in 
Bridewell,  but  was  deprived  of  that,  yet  neglected  by  the  Non-Con- 
formists for  having  gone  so  far"."  It  is  added  by  Kennet  that  he 
was  expelled  fi-om  Thistleworth  under  the  Bartholomew  act,  and 
driven  into  conformity  by  his  subsequent  sufferings  o.  According  to 
the  Non-Conformists'  Memorial  he  was  also  deprived  of  the  living  of 
Dunton,  Bucks  P.  No  fixrther  particulars  have  been  ascei'tained  con- 
cerning him,  save  that  he  published  in  the  year  1667  some  discourses 
on  the  burning  of  London. 

In  reply  to  Rolls  Patrick  put  forth  A  Further  Continuation, 
OR  THE  Third  Part  of  the  Friendly  Debate,  dated  Oct.  13, 
1669.  Herein  he  lashed  the  ignorant  mistakes  and  petulant  quib- 
bles of  his  antagonist,  in  a  manner  which  was  thought  by  some 
to  savour  too  much  of  jocularity  and  satire,  but  which  rose  at  least 
immeasurably  above  the  paltry  and  personal  tone  of  the  attack  that 
had  provoked  it,  nor  was  at  all  inconsistent  with  the  general  temper 
of  controversy  then  in  vogue. 

Rolls  appears  to  have  made  no  attempt  to  renew  the  polemical 
contest.  Soon  after  the  publication  of  his  "  Sober  Answer,"  and 
when  Patrick  had  already  concluded  his  reply,  a  more  grave  and  rea- 
sonable pamphlet  made  its  appearance,  which  reflected  with  some  fair- 
ness and  sobriety  upon  many  passages  and  statements  in  the  Friendly 
Debate,  and  was  felt  by  Patrick  to  deserve  a  more  attentive  and 
serious  consideration.  It  is  styled  "  An  Humble  Apology  for  Non- 
Conformists,  vrith  modest  and  serious  reflections  upon  the  Friendly 

For  an  account  of  the  Oxford  oath,  see  vol.  v.  p.  467. 
"  Sylvester's  Life  of  Baxter,  iii,  41 .     "  Kennet,  Reg.  p.  923.      1' Vol,  i.  p.298. 


xcii 


EDITOR'S  PKEFACE. 


Debate,  by  a  lover  of  tnitb  and  peace."  Tbe  name  of  tbe  -wi-iter  is 
not  known.  He  rebuts,  without  invective  or  indecorum,  the  chai-ges 
of  disloyalty,  schism,  hypocrisy  and  sacrilege  averred  by  Patrick 
against  the  sectaries  in  general,  defends  the  character  and  motives  of 
then-  more  prominent  champions,  and  pleads  for  a  more  charitable 
and  generous  construction  of  their  scruples. 

Among  other  points  he  discusses  with  much  temperance  the  rival 
claims  of  presbj-terian  and  episcopal  ordination,  of  litm-gical  forms 
and  extempore  prayers,  of  faith  and  good  works  as  elements  in  jus- 
tification, and  of  Arminianism  and  Calvinism  as  the  prevailing  doc- 
trine of  the  church  of  England  ;  and  \-indicates  the  less  extravagant 
among  the  dissenting  body,  such  as  the  strict  presbyterians  and 
moderate  independents,  from  being  classed  ^vith  regicides,  anabap- 
tists, levellers  and  fifth  monarchy  men. 

In  his  rejoinder,  which  came  out  in  a  small  8vo  tract  or  letter, 
dated  Jan.  13,  1669  (1670),  and  entitled,  An  Appendix  to  the 
Third  Part  of  the  Friexdly  Debate,  Patrick  substantiates  his 
former  statements  against  the  censures  of  his  anonymous  critic,  fol- 
lows him  closely  through  his  several  heads  of  objection,  and  de- 
monstrates, that  far  from  confotmding  all  separatists  in  one  common 
gulf  of  reprobation,  he  had  evinced  all  due  respect  for  the  -s-irtues, 
learning,  and  sufferings  of  the  really  meritorious  of  their  number, 
and  had  throughout  held  up  the  piety,  judgment,  and  sobriety  of  the 
earlier  nonconformists,  as  examj^les  for  the  emulation  of  their  suc- 
cessoi-s. 

Another  anonj-mous  attack  was  made  about  the  same  time  upon 
certain  portions  of  the  Friendly  Debate,  in  a  short  pamphlet  pur- 
porting to  be  "  A  Case  of  Conscience,  whether  a  Xon-Confonnist 
who  hath  taken  the  Oxford  oath,  may  come  to  live  at  London,  or  at 
any  corporate  town,  or  mthin  five  miles  of  it,  and  yet  be  a  good 
Christian;  stated  briefly  and  published  in  reference  to  what  is 
offered  to  the  contraiy  in  a  book  intituled,  '  A  Friendly  Debate  be- 
tAvixt  a  Conformist  and  a  Xon-Conformist, '  together  with  some 
animadversions  on  a  new  book  entitled  '  Ecclesiastical  Polity,'  "  &c. 
The  -writer  had  designed,  as  he  states,  a  longer  and  more  systematic 
work  ;  but  finding  himself  anticipated  by  an  earlier  vindicator,  con- 
tented himself  with  controverting  Patrick's  censm'es  upon  the  con- 
duct of  nonconformists,  in  defy-ing  or  evading  the  ci^'il  restraints 
placed  upon  them  by  the  legislature ;  with  more  particular  reference 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


xciii 


to  the  tlegi-ee  of  moral  obligation  to  be  attached  to  an  oath  taken 
under  the  pressure  of  judicial  pains  or  disabilities. 

A  novel  and  ingenious  position  both  in  law  and  casuistry  had  been 
recently  taken  up  by  the  leaders  of  the  nonconforming  body.  Since 
the  act  against  conventicles  had  been  suffered  to  expire,  it  was  as- 
sumed that,  no  legal  definition  of  a  conventicle  now  remaining,  there 
was  nothing  to  constitute  attendance  at  one  a  moral  or  penal 
offence. 

"  ilr.  Baxter  and  other  teachers  now  openly  boasted  of  the  Act 
against  conventicles  being  no  longer  in  force ;  of  their  meetings 
being  not  now  contrary  to  law ;  of  no  act  in  being  that  could  convict 
them  of  keeping  conventicles ;  of  the  Oxford  act  only  supposing  per- 
sons already  convicted,  but  not  enabling  any  to  convict  them;  of  the 
Oxford  oath  no  way  concerning  their  teachers,  and  that  it  ought  not 
to  be  put  upon  themP."  The  present  case  of  conscience  had  in  all 
probability  express  reference  to  the  personal  example  of  Baxter 
himself ;  who  had  during  the  same  year  been  arraigned  for  preach- 
ing at  Brentford,  and  sentenced,  under  the  Oxford  or  five  mile  act, 
to  six  months'  imprisonment  from  the  iith  of  June.  On  his  re- 
lease within  that  period,  on  the  ground  of  informality,  the  case  not 
having  been  tried  on  its  merits,  Baxter  sought  to  justify  his  conduct, 
by  the  opinion  of  sergeant  Fountaine  and  other  leading  counsel  in 
favour  of  his  interpretation  of  the  law. 

Patrick's  answer  to  this  Case  of  Conscience  is  subjoined  to  the 
Appendix  by  way  of  Postscript.  It  treats  broadly  and  generally 
of  the  relations  between  the  conscience  of  the  subject  and  the  civil 
power,  of  the  right  of  the  supreme  magistrate  to  legislate  in  matters 
relating  to  I'eligion,  and  the  lawfulness  of  resisting  or  disobeying 
such  laws  on  the  plea  of  conscientious  objections.  The  grounds 
taken,  and  conclusions  arrived  at,  are  practically  identical  with  the 
general  fomulas  propounded  by  Sanderson  and  Jeremy  Taylor,  though 
not  perhaps  delivered  with  the  scientific  accuracy  and  forcible  sen- 
tentiousness  of  those  eminent  casuists.  Passing  over  extreme  and 
imaginary  cases,  and  speaking  chiefly  of  negative  instances  or  prohi- 
bitions, rather  than  positive  commandments,  the  whole  matter  under 
dispute  is  brought  clearly  within  the  scope  of  the  simple  rule  that 
"  we  must  submit  to  all  manner  of  ordinances  of  men  for  the  Lord's 

P  Echard,  iii.  300. 

1  Calamy's  Abridgment,  p.  324.  Sylvester,  iii.  pp.  48-60.  Oi-me,  i.  343-350. 


xciv 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


sake,  so  long  as  they  ordain  nothing  contrary  to  the  express  word 
of  God>-." 

The  controversial  series  arising  out  of  the  publication  of  the 
Friendly  Debate  is  closed  by  A  Letter  to  the  Author  of  a  Dis- 
course OF  Ecclesiastical  Polity.  In  the  preface  to  the  last 
named  work,  published  in  1670,  Pai-ker  had  drawn  attention  to 
Patrick's  dialogue,  as  having  anticipated  much  of  his  own  design, 
and  had  spoken  of  it  with  the  highest  encomiums.  The  two  works 
are  yet  by  no  means  one  in  spirit.  Parker  inveighs  against  tolera- 
tion and  liberty  of  conscience  Avith  a  narrowness  and  heat  which  is 
nowhere  discoverable  in  Patrick's  severest  censures  upon  dissent. — 

"  When  I  first  resolved  upon  this  undertaking,  the  main  design  in 
my  thoughts  was  to  represent  to  the  world  the  lamentable  folly  and 
silliness  of  these  men's  religion,  and  to  show  what  pitiful  and  in- 
competent guides  of  their  actions  theii-  own  consciences  are ;  and 
that  to  leave  them  to  the  government  of  their  own  persuasions  is 
only  to  deliver  them  up  to  be  abused  by  all  manner  of  vices  and 
follies ;  and  that  when  they  have  debaucht  their  minds  with 
pride,  ignorance,  self-love,  ambition,  peevishness,  malice,  envy,  sur- 
liness, and  superstition,  &c.,  they  then  bestow  the  authority  and 
sacredness  of  conscience  upon  their  most  violent,  boisterous,  and 
ungovernable  passions.  In  brief,  that  their  consciences  are  seized  on 
by  such  morose  and  surly  principles  as  make  them  the  rudest  and 
most  barbarous  people  in  the  world ;  and  that,  in  comparison  of 
them,  the  most  insolent  of  the  Pharisees  were  gentlemen,  and  the 
most  salvage  of  the  Americans  philosophers.  But  in  this  design  I 
found  myself  happily  prevented  by  a  late  learned  and  ingenious  dis- 
course, '  The  Friendly  Debate,'  that  has  um-avelled  all  their  affected 
phrases  with  so  much  perspicuity  of  wit,  discovered  the  feebleness  of 
their  beloved  notions  with  so  much  clearness  of  reason,  demonstrated 
the  wildness  of  their  practices  by  so  many  pregnant  and  undeniable 
testimonies,  exposed  the  palpable  imwarrantableness  of  their  schism, 
the  shameful  prevarication  of  their  pretences,  and  utter  inconsistency 
of  their  principles  with  public  peace  and  settlement ;  and,  in  brief,  so 
evidently  convicted  the  leaders  in  the  faction  of  such  inexcusable 
knavery,  and  their  followers  of  such  a  dull  and  stubborn  simplicity, 
that  'tis  impossible  any  thing  should  hold  out  against  so  much  force 
'  Vol.  vi.  p.  383. 


EDITOR^S  PREFACE. 


xcv 


of  reason  and  demonstration,  but  invincible  impudence  and  ob- 
stinacy 

Beside  other  sharp  replies  to  Parker  from  the  nonconforming 
body,  a  pamphlet  was  issued  by  Owen  under  the  title  of  "  Truth 
and  Innocence  vindicated,  in  a  sm*vey  of  a  discourse  concerning 
Ecclesiastical  Polity,  and  the  authority  of  the  civil  magistrate  over 
the  consciences  of  subjects  in  matters  of  religion,"  which  has  been 
reprinted  in  the  21st  volume  of  Orme's  edition  of  his  wiitings.  In 
this  he  incidentally  animadverts  with  much  asperity  upon  the  state- 
ments and  mode  of  argument  contained  in  Patrick's  discourse.  His 
principal  ground  of  objection  is  captious  and  trivial  enough.  He 
seeks  to  fasten  a  complaint  upon  the  particular  form  selected  by 
Patrick  for  giving  effect  to  his  strictures  :  the  method  of  a  dialogue 
being,  as  he  avers,  "  peculiarly  accommodated  to  render  the  senti- 
ments and  expressions  of  our  adversaries  ridiculous,  and  expose  their 
persons  to  contempt  and  scorn."  He  protests  that  "  in  points  of 
faith,  opinion  and  judgment,  this  way  of  dealing  hath  been  hitherto 
esteemed  fitter  for  the  stage,  than  a  serious  disquisition  after  truth 
or  confutation  of  error." 

Kather  than  be  left  subject  to  misrepresentation,  even  in  so  inci- 
dental and  gratuitous  a  matter,  Patrick  chose  to  embody,  in  his  Letter 
to  Parker,  a  dissertation  wholly  disproportionate  in  point  of  learning 
and  research  to  the  question  under  cavil.  By  reference  to  need- 
lessly copious  precedents,  he  shows  how  frequent  the  use  of  the 
Socratic  form  of  disputation  has  ever  been  in  the  hands  of  the 
worthiest  scholars,  philosophers,  moralists  and  divines,  few  of  whom 
have  felt  themselves  precluded,  even  by  the  gravity  of  the  cause  at 
issue,  from  occasionally  disarming  a  cavil  or  a  crotchet  by  the  wea- 
pons of  irony  and  sarcasm ;  illustrating  the  now  trite  maxim  of  not 
the  least  sagacious  or  observant  critic  of  human  motives, 

 "  ridiculum  acri 

Fortius  et  melius  magnas  plerumque  secat  res." 

No  ordinary  pains  were  taken  by  Patrick  to  prepare  himself  for 
the  task  which  he  has  discharged  in  this  series  of  controversial 
pieces.  Much  time  and  labour  must  plainly  have  been  involved  in  the 
mere  accumulation  of  so  extensive  a  mass  of  materials  as  that  from 
which  his  apposite  and  graphic  illustrations  are  drawn.    Few  more 

'  Parker's  Preface  to  his  Discourse  of  Ecclesiastical  Polity. 


xcvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


comprehensive  or  systematic  collections  can  ever  have  been  formed, 
particularly  by  a  private  hand,  of  the  peculiar  literature  of  Puritanism, 
embracing  its  history,  tenets,  and  personal  or  social  peculiarities. 
Within  the  scope  of  his  multifarious  reading  are  comprised  not  only 
the  severe  and  elaborate  theology  of  the  more  learned  and  venerable 
of  the  puritan  fathers ;  but  sermons  and  discourses,  divers  and  in- 
numerable, parliamentary  addresses  and  harangues,  Barebone  ordi- 
nances, commonwealth  tracts  and  cavalier  pamphlets,  Oliverian 
broadsides  and  Caroline  proclamations.  Mercuries  and  Gazettes,  fifth- 
monarchy  prophecies  and  Anabaptist  revelations,  libels  and  pasquils 
from  Martin  Mar-Prelate  to  the  Observator  and  the  Gangrcena, 
never  fail  to  supply  him  with  appropriate  references,  or  to  give 
authentic  speech  to  every  class  of  disputants  who  figure  in  his 
dialogue. 

Not  the  least  toilsome,  nor  yet  the  least  instructive  portion  of  the 
editor's  task  has  sprung  from  his  anxiety  to  trace  out  and  verify 
these  several  sources  of  information,  with  a  view  not  only  to  test  the 
accuracy  of  the  writer's  statements,  but,  by  pointing  out  their  origin, 
to  facilitate  the  labour  of  the  student  who  may  wisli  to  pursue  his 
researches  further  into  the  history  of  that  period.  He  has  endea- 
voured, with  the  same  design,  to  elucidate  by  the  aid  of  notes  such 
points  of  historical  or  controversial  interest  as  were  less  likely  to  be 
familiar  to  the  general  reader,  including  brief  biographical  notices 
of  the  less  known  wi-iters,  or  other  personages  who  are  introduced. 

Those  who  are  conversant  with  the  original  literature  of  that 
period  will  appreciate  the  difficulty  of  following  an  author  into  the 
several  recesses  of  learning  to  which  he  has  often  made  but  the  most 
vague  and  cursory  reference.  The  more  ephemeral  and  fugitive 
pieces,  such  as  the  tracts  and  pamphlets  of  the  time  (of  which 
upwards  of  two  hundred  at  the  least  are  cited  here)  are,  as  is  well 
known,  especially  when  anonymous,  not  to  be  met  with  without  the 
utmost  difficulty.  Some  of  these  here  quoted  are  now  of  extreme 
rarity,  if  not  totally  lost.  Even  the  immense  collections  of  the 
British  Museum,  the  Bodleian  and  Cambridge  University  Libraries, 
those  of  the  Middle  and  Inner  Temples,  Lincoln's  Inn,  and  Sion 
College,  and  that  of  Dr.  Williams  in  Whitecross  St.,  have  failed  in 
one  or  two  instances  to  yield  up  the  missibg  sheets.  It  has  been 
the  editor's  aim  to  render  such  as  have  been  found  more  ready  of 
access  in  future,  l)y  giving  where  possible  their  titles  and  authors' 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


xcvii 


names  in  full.  In  the  case  of  documents  which  have  since  been  re- 
printed in  more  voluminous  collections,  such  as  those  of  Rushworth, 
Scobell,  and  Whitelocke,  the  Somers  Tracts  or  Harleian  Miscellany, 
a  reference  has  been  appended  to  the  place  where  they  are  to  be 
verified. 

Few  readers  need  desire  a  more  full  and  comprehensive  insight 
into  the  religious  and  political  state  of  England  during  the  period  of 
the  great  puritanic  convulsion,  than  can  be  attained  by  simply  follow- 
ing up  the  course  of  reading,  which,  in  a  manner  somewhat  desultory, 
it  is  true,  yet  richly  illustrative  of  its  subject,  I'uns  through  the  suc- 
cessive portions  of  the  Friendly  Debate. 


A  Discourse  of  profiting  by  Sermons,  and  of  going  where 

MEN  THINK  THEY  MAY  PROFIT  MOST. 

Not  the  least  warning  symptom  of  the  vast  change  which  had 
been  wrought  in  the  religious  habits  of  the  people,  by  its  rapid 
strides  in  independence  and  enlightenment  during  the  eventful  cen- 
tury following  the  reformation,  made  itself  felt  in  the  relation  that 
subsisted  between  the  preacher  and  his  hearers.  The  pulpit  had 
imperceptibly  risen  into  a  position  of  prominence,  from  which  it 
overshadowed  all  the  other  machinery  of  religious  influence.  But 
while  its  power  became  thus  paramount,  it  obeyed  a  different  law  of 
operation.  No  longer  could  the  same  simple  and  unquestioning  de- 
ference be  either  paid  or  expected  as  of  yore,  when  the  very  office  of  the 
pastor  sufficed  to  command  the  reverential  hearing  of  his  flock,  and 
his  addresses  partook  less  of  the  character  of  appeals  to  critical  in- 
tellects or  stubborn  wills,  than  that  of  dictates  to  a  docile  and  ac- 
quiescent belief.  Nor  could  this  transition,  whatever  the  reflections 
to  which  it  might  give  rise,  be  held  other  than  in  keeping  with  the 
general  temper  of  the  age.  When  the  primary  grounds  of  religion 
itself  had  by  common  consent  been  referred  to  the  arbitration  of  pri- 
vate judgment,  the  same  general  law  of  mental  progression  must 
needs  have  produced  its  effect  in  modifying  the  direct  influence  of 
religious  appeals  from  the  pulpit. 

It  was  of  the  essence  of  nonconformity  to  foster  this  apparent  re- 
versal of  relations,  which  raised  in  a  sense  the  hearer  into  the  place 
of  arbiter  and  censor  over  his  nominal  instructor  in  spiritual  things. 
The  dissenting  layman,  who  had  exercised  his  own  free  judgment  and 


xcviii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


option  in  separating  or  keeping  aloof  from  the  church  of  his  fathers, 
was  httle  hkely  to  forego  the  right  of  subjecting  the  ministrations  of 
his  chosen  spiritual  guide  to  the  subjective  test  of  his  individual  pre- 
possessions and  tastes.  The  separatist  divine,  indebted  for  his  au- 
thority and  mission  solely  to  the  gratuitous  suffrages  of  his  congre- 
gation, was  quickly  brought  to  feel  and  respond  to  the  intellectual 
stimulus  of  so  purely  personal  a  connection.  Energies  and  exertions 
were  forced  upon  the  preacher,  if  only  by  the  aggressive  character 
of  his  ministry,  such  as  the  church,  in  her  attitude  of  prescriptive 
right  and  passive  defence,  was  naturally  less  forward  to  develope ; 
such  as  could  hardly  have  been  realized  by  the  official  expositor  of 
an  exact  and  ancient  system,  or  while  the  voice  of  authority  con- 
tinued to  resound  without  provoking  cavil  or  demur.  No  longer  clad 
with  the  insignia  of  any  authority  but  his  own,  he  was  thrown  for 
the  substantiation  of  his  message  upon  the  ordinary  laws  of  oratori- 
cal suasion. 

So  great  a  revulsion  could  hardly  be  effected,  and  not  be  liable  to 
its  accompanying  abuses.  Its  dangerous  tendency  was  to  foster  in 
the  hearer  a  love  of  mere  oratory,  and  a  craving  for  novelty  and 
excitement  rather  than  sober  truth  ;  in  the  preacher  a  descent  to 
extravagance  and  paradox  in  doctrine,  reckless  and  fanciful  flights 
of  language,  and  meretricious  acts  of  oratorical  display. 

The  general  license  which  had  grown  up  during  the  abeyance  of 
the  church's  regular  discipline  continued  to  manifest  itself  long  after 
the  restoration,  in  an  habitual  impatience  of  the  ordinary  ties  be- 
tween pastor  and  people,  and  a  hankering  after  a  more  exciting 
strain  of  eloquence  than  it  was  the  church's  usage  to  supply.  A 
fancied  fault  in  manner,  a  deficiency  in  power  or  sweetness  of  voice, 
an  uneasy  gesture  or  too  tame  an  attitude  in  the  pulpit,  would  often 
be  made  a  pretext  for  turning  the  back  upon  a  faithful  and  earnest, 
but  not  popularly  gifted  teacher.  On  the  other  hand,  shallow  and 
ignorant  pretension,  a  bold  and  irreverent  use  of  holy  themes,  rash 
and  reckless  appeals  to  prejudice  or  passion,  were  drunk  in  by  eager 
and  indiscriminating  crowds,  when  commended  by  a  fluent  tongue, 
an  impetuous  action,  and  a  front  insensible  to  lapses  in  logic,  or  sins 
in  taste. 

It  may  be  questioned,  without  disloyalty,  whether  the  church  of 
England  at  large  showed  herself  at  the  time  sufficiently  alive  to 
the  significance  and  moinent  of  the  change  which  had  passed  over 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


xcix 


the  religious  temper  of  the  nation,  or  whether  she  has  at  any  time 
been  sufficiently  forward  to  avail  herself  of  the  opportunities  and 
advantages  which  were  bound  up  with  a  due  employment  of  the 
great  ordinance  of  preaching.  The  pulpit  has  even  been  allowed  to 
become  for  whole  generations,  and  to  a  deplorably  wide  extent,  the 
very  badge  of  sectarian  religion.  With  the  sects,  of  whatever  grade  or 
pattern,  it  has  ever  been  the  all  in  all  of  ritual  and  organization. 

The  church,  on  the  contrary,  more  careful  to  give  scope  and  ex- 
pansion to  her  parochial  system  and  symbolical  means  of  grace,  even 
jealous,  it  may  be,  of  detracting  from  the  supreme  sacredness  and 
efficacy  of  her  divinely-ordered  sacraments,  has  been  less  proportio- 
nately studious  to  allow  its  due  authority  to  an  apostolic  institution 
so  vital  to  her  true  interests,  as  that  of  the  ministry  of  the  Word. 
That  ordinance  which  was  to  the  churchman  but  ancillary  to  his 
higher  engines  for  the  cure  and  salvation  of  souls,  a  lesser  part  of 
his  organized  machinery  of  ritual  and  discipline,  gathered  into  itself 
the  entire  energies  of  the  nonconformist  divine,  regulated  the  whole 
tenor  of  his  studies  and  pursuits,  and  moulded  to  one  end  every  faculty 
of  thought  and  speech. 

Complaints,  which  we  dare  not  hastily  sentence  as  presumptuous 
and  indefensible,  were  especially  rife  at  the  period  of  the  restoration 
against  the  style  of  preaching  which  had  most  generally  been  re- 
vived among  the  clergy  of  the  establishment.  With  the  rehabilita- 
tion of  the  bygone  order  of  things  in  doctrine  and  ritual,  reappeared 
in  the  pulpit  much  of  the  old  technical  structure,  the  scholastic  dis- 
tribution, and  traditional  formality  both  of  diction  and  delivery, 
which  had  been  in  vogue  while  religious  teaching  was  swathed  in 
the  bands  of  the  scholastic  centuries,  and  while  the  forms  of  educated 
thought  were  mainly  cast  in  a  matrix  of  medieval  Latinity.  To  an 
audience  accustomed  to  the  fiery  harangues  or  unctuous  outpourings 
of  the  Crorawellian  era,  homilies  of  the  common  Anglican  type  may 
well  have  sounded  dull,  conventional  and  jejune  in  matter,  and  dry, 
frigid  and  uninteresting  in  style. 

Ears  that  had  thrilled  to  the  bursts  of  an  eloquence,  which  if 
coarse  and  exaggerated,  was  unmistakably  bold,  original  and  home- 
spoken  ;  if  reckless  in  statement,  loose  in  logic,  and  inelegant  in 
taste,  had  at  all  events  the  charm  of  fervour,  and  the  outward  guise 
at  least  of  sincerity,  itched,  under  the  more  sober  and  decorous 
ministrations  of  the  church,  for  the  impassioned  oratory  of  their 
now  silenced  pastors,  or  strayed  by  stealth  to  the  proscribed  con- 

g  2 


c 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


venticle.  The  breach  was  widened  by  doctrinal  differences.  Syste- 
matic instruction  in  doctrine,  in  Scripture  history,  or  in  the  practice 
of  Christian  virtue, — obedience,  purity,  temperance,  uprightness,  and 
hohness  of  will  and  deed, — grated  discordantly  upon  the  ear  of  the 
ultra-Pauline  and  Augustinian  claimant  of  irreversible  election,  and 
faith  irrespective  of  works  ;  and  was  utterly  denounced  by  the  Anti- 
nomian  of  whatever  shade  as  a  savour  of  "  mere  morality,"  a  "  stinted 
and  legal  spirit,"  Arminianism  and  heathenry*.  A  few  favourite  dog- 
mas alone  were  permitted  to  eke  out  the  slender  theology  of  the 
presbyterian  pulpit.  Its  tone  must  in  no  instance  fall  short  of 
startling  the  hearer  by  paradox  or  humour,  or  electrifying  him  by 
vehemence  and  fire.  Most  bitter  were  the  sneers  and  recriminations 
upon  the  habit  of  delivering  the  discourse  from  a  prepared  manu- 
script. That  practice  stands  to  the  present  day  as  a  marked  me- 
morial of  the  difference  in  conception,  which  has  from  the  first,  as 
a  rule,  distinguished  the  homiletics  of  the  church  from  those  of  the 
nonconforming  clergy".  Down  to  the  reformation,  and  a  century 
later,  the  idea  of  a  sermon  approached  far  more  nearly  to  that  of  the 
divinity  lecture  of  the  doctor  or  master  in  theology,  than  to  the  ap- 
peal of  the  oratorical  declaimer.  In  form  it  was  designed  to  embody 
the  results  of  reading,  and  sow  the  seeds  of  meditation,  far  more 
than  to  arouse  the  curiosity,  or  to  stimulate  the  religious  emotions. 
Precision  in  stating,  and  a  reverent  guardedness  in  delivering  the 
doctrines  of  his  creed,  were  kept  more  prominently  before  the 
preacher's  mind,  than  novelty  or  brilliancy  of  matter,  or  the  arts  of 
oratorical  appeal.  Enthusiasm  had  been  but  too  readily  identified 
with  the  temper  of  separatism  and  heterodoxy,  for  the  orthodox  di- 
vine not  to  fall  back  in  contrast  upon  a  quietistic  content  with  what 
was  conventional  and  sober,  traditionary  and  safe. 

In  this  unsatisfactory  state  of  the  relations  between  the  church 
and  her  congregations,  strenuous  efforts  were  made  by  Patrick,  in 
conjunction  with  his  friends,  Tillotson,  Stillingfleet  and  Tenison,  to 

t  Eveljm  bewails  the  neglect  of  practical  religious  teaching  in  the  presbyte- 
rian pulpit,  which  under  the  license  of  the  restoration  bore  such  scandalous 
fruits. — "There  was  now  nothing  practical  preached,  or  that  pressed  reforma- 
tion of  life  ;  but  high  and  speculative  points,  and  strains  that  few  understood  ; 
which  left  people  very  ignorant  and  of  no  steady  principles." — Memoirs, 
Nov.  2,  1656. 

1  Patrick's  own  practice,  in  common  with  most  of  his  contemporaries  in  the 
church,  was  to  read  his  sermons.  The  royal  chaplains,  he  incidentally  men- 
tions, were  required  to  preach  "  witliout  book." — Vol.  ix,  p.  455. 


EDlTOirS  PREB^ACE. 


ci 


promote  on  the  part  of  the  clergy  a  better  understanding  of  the  true 
functions  of  the  pulpit,  and  to  bring  home  to  nonconformists  a 
sounder  estimate  of  the  church's  standards  of  instruction.  In  their 
own  discourses  they  set  the  precedent  of  a  new  and  more  appro- 
priate kind  of  eloquence,  simple,  direct,  and  suited  to  the  popular 
understanding.  The  classic  style  of  the  earlier  Anglican  models 
gave  them  its  severity  of  thought  and  scholarly  precision  of  phrase, 
no  longer  encumbered  by  its  elements  of  pedantry  and  formalism. 
The  zeal  and  fervour  of  the  great  Puritan  divines  was  fairly  matched, 
yet  purified  from  its  vein  of  spiritual  egotism,  its  doctrinal  excesses, 
its  frenzied  heat  or  grotesque  sallies  of  wit.  With  the  view  of  further 
conciliating  the  malcontents  by  means  of  argument,  Patrick  drew  up, 
in  the  year  1683,  his  short  Discourse  of  profiting  by  Sermons, 

AND  OF  GOING  WHERE  MEN  THINK  THEY  PROFIT  MOST. 

His  reasoning  is  such  as  may  be  read  with  profit  at  all  ages  of 
the  church,  setting  forth  as  it  does  with  the  utmost  judgment  what 
should  be  the  true  aim  of  a  faithful  preacher,  and  distinguishing  be- 
tween the  merely  ephemeral  and  shallow  effects  of  a  sermon,  and 
those  which  are  really  permanent  and  valuable.  He  unmasks  the 
flimsy  pretexts  by  which  many  sought  to  justify  a  merely  wanton 
and  capricious  spirit  of  criticism ;  and  traces  to  an  idle  temper  of 
instability  and  self-pleasing  much  that  claimed  to  betoken  superior 
spiritual  light,  or  exceptional  fastidiousness  of  taste. 

The  constituents  of  a  good  sermon,  together  with  the  frame  of 
mind  which  can  alone  render  it  profitable  to  the  hearer,  have  never 
been  more  faithfully  defined  than  in  the  brief  passages  following  :  — 

"  A  sermon  is  then  profitable,  when  it  informs  the  mind  and 
judgment  aright  in  divine  truth  ;  when  it  instructs  you  in  any  part 
of  the  Christian  duty ;  when  it  tends  to  strengthen  or  awaken  your 
faith,  that  you  may  more  steadfastly  adhere  and  earnestly  apply 
yourselves  to  what  you  know  and  believe  certainly  to  be  God's  mind 
and  will ;  when  it  works  upon  the  will  and  the  affections  to  submit 
entirely  to  God's  will,  that  you  may  bring  forth  the  fruit  of  an  holy 
life  ;  when  it  corrects  any  of  your  errors,  stirs  up  your  sloth,  en- 
courages you  to  diligence,  cheerfulness  and  perseverance,  and  such 
like  things. 

"  But  the  best  contrived  sermon  in  the  world  for  all  these  ends, 
though  it  were  indited  by  the  Spirit  of  God  itself,  would  have  no 
efficacy  at  all  in  it,  if  they  that  heard  it  did  not  attend  to  it :  and 
attend  without  prejudice,  without  passion,  without  partiality,  without 


cii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


rash  and  hasty  judgment,  without  pride  and  conceit  of  themselves, 
and  tlaeir  own  knowledge  and  righteousness.  That  is,  unless  they 
consider  and  weigh  what  is  delivered,  though  contrary  to  their  pre- 
sent sense  :  unless  they  will  impartially  give  everything  that  is 
offered  to  their  mind  a  due  regard,  and  allot  some  time  for  its 
further  consideration,  when  it  is  not  to  their  liking,  &c.  For  want 
of  which  multitudes  did  not  profit  by  our  Saviour's  sermons,  but 
were  hardened  against  him,  and  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  when  it 
came  down  from  heaven  to  convince  them'^." 

A  lax  and  erratic  kind  of  devotion  had  become  largely  prevalent, 
many,  without  openly  apostatizing  from  the  church,  yet  halting  in  alle- 
giance between  the  church  and  the  meeting  house ;  hanging  on  the 
ministrations  of  preachers  who  pandered  to  the  tastes  of  such  volup- 
tuaries in  religion,  and  excusing  their  dalliance  with  dissent  by  the  plea 
of  their  being  found  on  occasions  within  the  pale  of  the  established 
sanctuary.  In  rebuke  of  this  vagrant  and  vacillating  practice,  en- 
couraged by  the  sectarian  preachers  of  the  time,  Patrick  refers  at 
length  to  the  strictures  passed  upon  such  half-hearted  devotion  by 
one  of  the  greatest  fathers  of  Puritanic  dissent,  Arthur  Hildersham. 
His  dissuasive  is  couched  in  gentle  and  conciliatory  tones,  its  object 
being  to  disarm  opposition  and  cavil,  and  to  conform  waverers  in 
attachment  to  the  church's  means  of  grace.  That  persuasive,  not 
compulsory  means  were  the  engines  on  which  he  relied  for  the  sup- 
pression of  this  habit  of  desultory  religion,  is  evinced  by  the  opposi- 
tion with  which  he  met  the  bill  against  Occasional  Conformity  in- 
troduced into  the  House  of  Lords  in  the  year  1702.  His  remarks 
on  that  occasion  will  be  found  cited  in  a  note  on  that  portion  of  his 
biography,  vol.  ix.  p.  554. 

This  discourse,  which  bears  marks  of  having  been  in  the  first  in- 
stance designed  for  delivery  from  the  pulpit,  was  given  to  the  public 
in  a  4to  tract  in  the  year  1683.  It  was  again  printed,  in  combina- 
tion with  others  relating  to  cognate  topics,  in  the  "  Collection  of 
Cases  and  other  discourses  written  to  recover  dissenters  to  the  com- 
munion of  the  church  of  England." 

This  collection,  comprising  twenty-three  treatises  by  eighteen 
separate  contributors,  among  whom  occur  the  names  of  Sherlock, 
Williams,  Benjamin  Calamy,  Tillotson,  Tenison  and  Fowler,  appeared 
in  two  volumes  4to  in  1685,  a  second  time  in  one  volume  folio  in 
1694,  and  a  third  in  three  octavo  volumes  in  1718. 

"  Vol.  vi.  p.  424. 


EDITOirS  PREFACE. 


ciii 


An  Earnest  Request  to  Mr.  John  Standish,  &c. 

Allusion  has  already  been  made  to  the  strenuous  opposition  by 
which  the  new  or  critical  theology  was  encountered  from  two  different 
quarters.  Its  freer  and  more  argumentative  tone  of  reasoning,  to- 
gether with  its  tacit  reference  to  private  judgment,  provoked  hosti- 
lity on  one  side  at  the  hands  of  the  remnant  of  the  old  conservative 
party  in  the  church,  who,  still  clinging  to  the  traditional  rule  of 
authority,  extolled  learning  above  reasoning,  and  submission  above 
inquiry.  Its  scientific  structure,  and  intimate  connection  with  the 
laws  of  ethics  and  natural  religion,  raised  up  other  adversaries  in 
the  dogmatists  of  the  Puritan  or  ultra- Calvinistic  school.  The  bug- 
bear of  the  former  section  lay  in  innovation  and  private  opinion,  as 
that  of  the  latter  is  Arminianism  and  the  use  of  human  reason. 
The  efforts  of  the  greatest  intellects  of  the  age  to  stem  the  rising 
torrent  of  infidelity  and  lawlessness,  by  basing  once  for  all  the  hea- 
venly doctrines  of  religion  on  the  rock  of  irrefragable  proof,  were 
mistaken  by  narrow  or  timid  minds  for  a  guilty  compromise  with 
the  adversaries  of  Christian  truth,  and  denounced  as  fraught  with 
the  very  evils  they  were  alone  calculated  to  dissipate,  those  of  infi- 
delity, licentiousness,  and  irreligion.  Neither  the  profound  talents, 
wide  erudition,  or  enthusiastic  piety  which  they  brought  to  the 
defence  of  the  Christian  faith,  could  screen  them  from  the  invi- 
dious aspersion  of  secretly  plotting  for  atheism  against  the  gospel, 
and  human  reason  against  revealed  truth. 

When  the  great  names  of  Taylor,  Chillingworth,  and  Bull  are 
found  classed  in  the  theological  invectives  of  the  day  with  the  cause 
of  Socinianism  and  infidelity,  it  can  be  no  wonder  that  the  bold  and 
independent  views  which  had  obtained  the  name  of  '  latitudinarian' 
should  have  concentrated  upon  their  holders  the  jealousy  and  suspi- 
cion of  each  extreme  in  the  religious  world.  Philosophy  and  liberality 
served  to  array  against  the  neutral  section  of  the  clergy  all  those 
who  from  opposite  motives  conspired  to  sever  between  reason  and 
Christian  belief. 

Not  only  Geneva,  but  Rome  rose  in  alarm  at  the  prospect  of  a 
league  between  science  and  religion,  for  the  difiiision  of  light  and 
banishment  of  superstition.  The  part  played  by  the  papists,  which 
appears  to  have  been  followed  to  too  great  an  extent  by  the  extreme 


CIV 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


hierarchical  or  Jacobite  party  in  the  church,  was  very  characteristic 
of  the  unvarying  poHcy  of  their  body.  "The  latitudinarians,"  Burnet 
writes,  "  were  all  very  zealous  against  popery.  And  so,  they  be- 
coming soon  very  considerable,  the  papists  set  themselves  against 
them  to  decry  them  as  atheists,  deists,  or  at  best  Socinians.  And 
now  that  the  main  principle  of  religion  was  struck  at  by  Hobbs  and 
his  followers,  the  papists  acted  upon  this  a  very  strange  part.  They 
went  in  so  far  even  into  the  argument  for  atheism,  as  to  publish 
many  books  in  which  they  affirmed  that  there  was  no  certain  proof 
of  the  Christian  religion,  unless  we  took  it  from  the  authority  of  the 
church  as  infallible.  This  was  such  a  delivering  up  of  the  cause  to 
them,  that  it  raised  in  all  good  men  a  very  high  indignation  at 
popery;  that  party  shewing,  that  they  chose  to  make  men  who  would 
not  turn  papists  become  atheists,  rather  than  believe  Christianity 
upon  any  other  ground  than  infallibilityy." 

This  fundamental  antipathy  was  in  some  degree  brought  to  an 
issue  when  John  Standish,  one  of  the  royal  chaplains,  preaching  in 
his  course  at  Whitehall  before  the  court  on  the  26th  of  September, 
1675,  ventured  to  stigmatize  the  leading  clergy  who  were  known  to 
advocate  sentiments  of  the  new  order,  in  a  manner  which  wholly 
transcended  the  usual  restraints  of  a  polemical  diatribe,  still  more 
those  of  a  discourse  from  a  Christian  pulpit.  Pointing  almost  by 
name  to  the  ablest  and  most  exemplary  of  the  metropolitan  preach- 
ers, he  accuses  them  of  systematically  exalting  the  human  intellect 
above  the  authority  of  Scripture,  "  making  reason,  reason,  reason, 
the  only  Trinity,  and  impiously  denying  our  Lord  and  his  Holy 
Spirit."  Their  preaching  he  denounces  as  mere  morality  and  natural 
divinity,  as  utterly  excluding  the  distinctive  truths  of  revelation,  as  flat 
Arminianism,  and  as  replete  with  the  most  pestilent  doctrines  of  Pela- 
gius,  or  the  more  recent  heresies  of  Racow.  He  does  not  even  shrink 
from  fastening  upon  them,  almost  personally,  the  epithet  of  Arians 
or  Socinians. 

It  is  not  sufficiently  clear  to  what  section  of  opinion  in  the  church 
Standish's  own  views  are  to  be  referred ;  nor  has  much  information 
been  brought  to  light  concerning  his  personal  career^.    An  epigram 

y  Burnet,  i.  3-24.    Compare  Birch,  p.  31. 

'  Standish  had  been  fellow  of  Peterhouse,  (Wood,  iv.  747,)  was  presented  by 
bishop  Wren  to  the  rectory  of  Conington,  May  2, 1664;  (Baker,  in  MSS.  Harl. 
7042.  fol.  201.)  graduated  M.  A.  the  same  year,  and  D.D.  in  1680.  (Cat. 
Grad.  Cant.) 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cv 


of  Dr.  Duport's  commemorates  the  fact  of  the  three  brothers, 
Francis,  John  and  David  Standish  having  been  ahke  born  at  Peter- 
borough, educated  at  Peterhouse,  and  graced  with  Peter's  keys  of  order 
and  harmony,  complimenting  them  upon  their  attainments  in  music 
The  name  is  in  itself  strongly  suggestive  of  Puritan  associations ; 
and  in  his  sermon  John  Standish  reechoes  unmistakably  the  well- 
known  cavils  and  denunciations  hurled  by  Calvinists  of  the  most 
Antinomian  type  against  "moral"  and  "rational"  Christianity. 
But  for  this,  the  panegyric  of  so  staunch  a  champion  of  antique  or- 
thodoxy as  the  Greek  professor  might  be  taken  to  imply  a  connec- 
tion with  the  theological  bias  of  an  earlier  sera  in  Anglican  history. 
Standish  is  not  known  to  have  made  any  further  contribution  to 
literature  beyond  the  present  isolated  discourse,  which  was  published 
soon  after  its  delivery,  and  gave  rise  to  much  animated  discussion. 

To  Standish's  intemperate  and  unreasonable  attack,  Patrick,  who 
probably  felt  himself  aimed  at  in  person,  in  company  with  his  equally 
prominent  brethren  of  the  liberal  section,  made  reply  in  an  anony- 
mous letter,  entitled  "  An  Earnest  Request  to  Mr.  John  Stan- 
dish, OCCASIONED  Br  HIS  SERMON  AT  WHITEHALL  SePT.  26,  1675." 

He  therein  challenges  Standish  to  justify  his  rash  and  uncharitable 
censure  upon  so  many  of  his  brethren  in  the  same  communion,  and 
calls  upon  him  to  substantiate  his  personal  charges  by  bringing  for- 
ward the  names  of  those  whom  he  ventured  thus  unsparingly  to 
brand  with  the  stigma  of  antichristian  tenets. 

Although,  for  reasons  of  his  own,  withholding  his  name,  it  seems 
to  have  been  far  from  Patrick's  desire  to  preserve  his  incognito 
wholly  unpenetrated.  Subscribing  his  pamphlet  by  the  pseudonym 
of  "  Patropolis,"  he  suffered  a  clue  to  transpire  in  the  first  four  let- 
ters of  his  name,  which,  considering  his  eminent  rank  amongst  the 
parties  under  vilification,  need  not  long  have  concealed  the  secret  of 
its  authorship.  Whether  Standish  was  enabled  through  so  trans- 
parent a  device  to  recognise  his  questioner,  or  not,  no  attempt  was 
made  by  him  to  support  his  accusations,  or  to  mingle  in  the  contro- 
versy which  they  set  in  motion. 

In  the  following  spring  an  anonymous  pamphlet  was  put  forth  in 
reply  to  Patrick's  letter,  subscribed  "  by  a  person  of  quality,"  and 
designated,  "  Truth  unveiled  in  behalf  of  the  church  of  England, 
being  a  vindication  of  Mr.  John  Standish's  sermon  preached  before 
a  Duport,  Musse  Subsecivas,  p.  146. 


cvi 


EDlTOirS  PREFACE. 


the  king,  giving  particular  instances  of  such  (amongst  her  perfect 
sons)  as  have  ventured  upon  innovations  in  her  doctrines."  It  was 
the  production  of  Arthur  Annesley,  earl  of  Anglesey,  lord  privy  seal, 
a  politician  whose  character  has  been  very  variously  portrayed  by 
contemporary  writers.  By  Anthony  a  Wood  he  is  represented  as  a 
statesman  without  principle,  a  trimmer  and  timeserver,  a  Calvinist 
by  profession,  but  from  motives  of  policy  a  favourer  of  the  papists^. 
Burnet  depicts  him  as  one  who  was  "  neither  loved  nor  trusted  by 
any  man  or  any  side,"  "  who  sold  every  thing  that  was  in  his  power, 
and  sold  himself  so  often  that  he  grew  useless ;"  a  tedious  and  un- 
graceful speaker,  but  possessed  of  considerable  talents  for  adminis- 
tration, and  deeply  learned  in  the  law.  Combining  the  profession 
of  toryism  with  strong  adherence  to  the  protestant  succession,  he 
with  a  few  others  now  afterwards  the  party  name  of  Hanover  tories^. 
His  strong  puritanical  bias  gained  him  an  ascendancy  among  the 
Calviuistic  section  of  the  low  chuixh  party,  and  the  general 
body  of  dissenters.  In  "  Truth  unveiled,"  which  is  not  devoid 
of  ability,  though  grossly  unfair  both  in  statement  and  inference, 
he  takes  up  a  position  virtually,  if  not  confessedly,  external  to  the 
church  of  England.  The  objections  by  which  he  seeks  to  expose 
what  he  would  represent  as  innovations  in  her  religious  doctrines, 
are  such  as  in  reality  apply  not  only  to  the  standard  teaching  of  her 
greatest  divines,  but  to  the  letter  and  spirit  of  her  formularies  them- 
selves. On  the  matter  of  justification  by  faith,  while  supporting 
himself  in  terms  by  the  eleventh  article  of  the  church,  he  is  careful 
to  ignore  the  correlative  truths  laid  down  in  her  liturgy,  catechism, 
and  homilies.  Few  of  her  great  authorities  escape  the  imputation  of 
heterodoxy,  even  of  the  gravest  kind.  Against  the  illustrious  au- 
thor of  the  "Defensio  Fidei  Nicenae,"  and  "  Harmonia  Apostolica," 
he  reechoes  the  cavils  which  Gataker,  Truman,  and  TuUy  had  pre- 
ferred before^;  and  follows  the  cry  of  Eyre  and  Crandon,  in  detecting 
the  scent  of  Socinianism  in  the  writings  even  of  Baxter  and  the 
less  ultra  presbyterians*!. 

Patrick's  rejoinder  to  Annesley  received  the  title  of  Falsehood 
Unmask'd,  in  answer  to  a  book  called  Truth  Unveiled,  &c. 

b  Wood,  Athen.  Oxon.  iv.  182,  Burnet,  i.  166,  and  Speaker  Onslow's  note 
on  the  latter  writer,  v.  330. 
<=  Nelson,  pp.  iSa-^iS. 

d  Patrick  has  already  remarked  on  this  charge  in  hi.s  Friendly  Debate, 
vol.  vi.  p.  173. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cvii 


It  contains  a  spirited  vindication  of  the  doctrine  of  the  church  upon 
the  several  points  impugned,  and  demonstrates  that  the  teaching  of 
the  writer's  school,  so  far  from  being  chargeable  with  novelty  and 
unsoundness,  had  the  sanction  of  the  most  illustrious  names  in  the 
annals  of  the  church  ;  and  instead  of  leaning  to  any  insidious  com- 
promise with  heresy,  afforded,  in  fact,  in  the  right  and  judicious  use 
of  the  human  intellect,  the  most  consistent  and  stable  ground  for  re- 
pelling the  perversions  of  reason,  and  the  advances  of  Socinian  error. 
The  tract  was  licensed  for  press  Nov.  3,  1676. 

Patrick  was  not  the  only  divine  in  the  ranks  of  the  established 
clergy  who  assumed  the  defence  of  their  brethren  aspersed  by 
Standish,  Annesley,  and  others  of  the  same  party.  Dr.  Robert 
Grove  put  forth  anonymously,  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1676, 
"A  Vindication  of  the  conforming  clergy  from  the  unjust  aspersions 
of  heresie,  &c.,  in  answer  to  some  part  of  Mr.  Jenkvn's  funeral 
sermon  upon  Dr.  Seaman ;  with  short  reflections  on  some  passages 
in  a  sermon  preached  by  Mr.  J.  S.  upon  2  Cor.  v.  20:  in  a  letter  to 
a  friend."  Another  answer  was  "  A  Letter  to  the  Author  of  the 
Vindication  of  Mr.  Standish's  Sermon,"  by  an  anonymous  hand. 

Wood  has  fallen  into  the  mistake,  in  which  he  has  been  generally 
followed  by  the  compilers  of  hbrary  catalogues,  of  attributing  Pa- 
trick's second  pamphlet.  Falsehood  Unmasked,  to  Grove^. 


A  Discourse  about  Tradition,  &c. 
The  auspicious  opportunity  held  out  to  the  partizans  of  popery 
by  the  restoration  of  a  sovereign  worse  than  indifferent  to  the  cause 
of  the  Reformation,  and  of  a  court  in  which  the  emissaries  of  Rome 
enjoyed  open  countenance  and  patronage,  naturally  called  forth  the 
energies  of  the  leading  clergy  of  the  church  of  England  for  the  orga- 
nization of  measures  not  infeinor  in  strenuousness  or  method  for  the 
protection  of  the  imperilled  interests  of  scriptui-al  tnith.  Forward 
among  the  names  of  those  divines  who,  through  the  agency  of  the 
pulpit  and  the  press,  set  themselves  to  expose  the  errors  of  Roman- 
ism, and  to  defeat  the  machinations  of  the  Jesuit  and  other  foreign 
orders,  that  swarmed  at  Whitehall  towards  the  close  of  Charles' 
reign,  under  the  auspices  of  the  duke  of  York,  was  that  of  Symon 
Patrick.  ^  He  had  even  taken,  in  September  1675,  the  bold  step  of 
e  Athen.  Oxon,  iv.  183. 


cviii 


EDITOR  S  PHEFACE. 


ackli'cssing  James  himself,  through  the  form  of  a  personal  appeal,  in 
which  he  ventm-ed  to  lay  before  that  bigoted  prince,  Avho  had  not 
yet  oi>enly  avowed  his  popish  sentiments,  a  sober  statement  of  the 
arguments  in  behalf  of  the  Anglican  and  Romish  claims  respectively ; 
in  the  hope  of  retaining  him  in  allegiance  to  the  church  of 
England. 

Instead  of  resenting  his  conduct  as  an  act  of  presumptuous  inter- 
ference, James  was  apparently  touched  by  Patrick's  earnestness  and 
love  of  ti'uth,  and  Avas  pleased  to  compliment  him  by  causing  his 
name  to  be  enrolled  among  the  list  of  his  chaplains  6.  It  must  be 
held  a  matter  of  regret,  that  so  interesting  a  piece  should  have  been 
lost.  Patrick  speaks  of  his  ha\ing  caused  the  greater  part  of  it  to  be 
transcribed,  with  the  design  of  appending  it  to  his  autobiography : 
but  unfortunately  mo  copy  of  the  document  has  been  transmitted 
among  his  other  MSS. 

After  his  accession,  James  is  said  to  have  made  repeated  overtures 
to  Patrick,  with  a  view  to  his  reconciliation  with  the  church  of 
Rome,  but  to  have  been  met  by  the  firm  though  respectful  reply 
that  "  he  could  not  think  of  quitting  a  religion  which  was  so  well 
proved  as  that  of  the  church  of  England  V  The  part  played  about 
the  same  time  by  Patrick,  in  conjunction  with  Jane,  in  upholding 
the  protestant  cause  in  the  royal  presence,  against  the  Romish 
champions,  Gilford  and  Godwin,  is  well  known,  chiefly  from  his  own 
minute  report  of  the  proceedings^.  He  was  also  the  first  to  put  his 
name  to  the  resolution  of  the  London  clergy  not  to  read  the  Decla- 
ration of  Indulgence 

It  is  strange  that  Patrick,  in  writing  his  minute  and  careful  me- 
moir of  his  own  life,  should  have  omitted  to  mention  his  essay  on 
Tradition,  the  earliest  of  all  his  publications  against  popery,  with  the 
exception  of  the  revised  translation  of  Grotius'  treatise  Be  veritate 
Christicmce  religionis.  The  present  discourse  was  first  published  in 
a  4to  pamphlet  in  the  year  1683,  and  reprinted  in  1685.  It  also 
forms  part  of  the  first  volume  of  the  original  folio  edition  of  bishop 
Gibson's  Preservative  against  Popery,  published  in  1738,  and  of  the 
fifth  of  that  edited  for  the  Reformation  Society,  by  the  Rev.  John 
Gumming,  D.D.,  pp.  245-280. 

This  tract  aspires  to  be  no  more  than  a  brief  and  popular  summary 

c  Vol.  ix.  p.  502.  f  Biogr.  Brit.    Chalmers'  Life  of  Patrick. 

?  Vol.  ix.  p.  491-501.  h  Macaulay,  ii.  349. 


EDITOR'S  rilEFACE. 


cix 


of  the  general  arguments  against  the  popish  abuse  of  cathohc  tradi- 
tion, which  may  be  found  stated  more  systematically,  and  at  greater 
length,  as  well  as  fortified  by  a  more  imposing  array  of  authorities, 
in  the  woi'ks  of  the  great  champions  of  the  Eeformation,  Jewel, 
Chilling-worth,  Stillingfleet,  and  Whitby.  Patrick  is  careful,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  define  with  perspicuity  and  correctness  the  true 
conception  of  tradition,  and  its  legitimate  use  and  value  in  sub- 
ordination to  the  prime  authority  of  Scripture ;  as  testifying  to 
the  delivery  and  transmission  of  the  written  word,  to  the  history 
and  settlement  of  the  canon  of  revelation,  to  the  doctrines  derived 
therefrom,  and  the  forms  of  constitution  developed  in  accordance 
therewith  by  the  chiu-ch  in  all  ages. 

The  first  part  treats  accordingly  "  of  such  traditions  as  we  re- 
ceive." In  the  second  part,  he  proceeds  to  point  out  on  the  con- 
trary "  what  traditions  are  to  be  rejected disting-uishing  the  really 
catholic  and  unvarying  traditions  of  antiquity,  from  the  sui)posititious, 
apocryphal,  and  comparatively  local  or  recent  impressions  of  a  le- 
gendary kind,  to  which  the  policy  of  Eome  has  given  her  sanction 
as  a  prescriptive  basis  for  her  additions  to  primitive  faith  and  usage. 
Like  all  Patrick's  writings  on  the  same  controversy,  it  is  conspicuous 
for  fairness  and  moderation  of  statement ;  as  well  as  for  a  sobriety  of 
language,  such  as  could  give  just  cause  of  offence  to  no  candid  and 
honourable  opponent,  however  decided  in  his  convictions,  or  suscep- 
tible in  his  feelings. 


Search  the  Scriptures,  &c. 

Having,  in  the  foregoing  treatise,  on  Tradition,  established  the 
doctrine  that  all  things  necessary  to  be  believed  and  practised  in 
order  to  salvation  are  expressly  contained  in  Holy  Scripture, 
Patrick  proceeds  in  the  present  treatise,  which  he  designed  as  a 
supplement  to  the  other,  to  refute  the  common  fallacy  by  which  the 
church  of  Rome  justifies  her  denial  to  the  laity  of  the  right  to  read 
freely  the  whole  Word  of  God.  It  is  mainly  devoted  to  the  discus- 
sion of  the  scriptural  argument,  which  has  been  drawn,  in  defence  of 
that  restriction,  from  the  language  of  St.  Peter  in  sjieaking  of  the 
Pauline  epistles ;  in  which,  he  says,  are  some  things  hard  to  he  under- 
stood, which  tliey  tiiat  are  unlearned  and  unstable  wrest,  as  they  do  also 
the  ollm-  Scriptures,  unto  their  ovm  destruction.    Such,  it  has  thence 


cx  '  EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 

been  argued  by  the  papal  advocates,  "  are  the  difficulties  and  obscu- 
rities of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  that  they  ought  not  to  be  thought 
profitable  for  all  people,  but  rather  hurtful  to  them  that  are  igno- 
rant :  who  therefore  ought  not  to  read  them." 

Patrick's  reply  to  this  plea  is  of  a  simple  and  popular  character, 
but  marked  by  excellent  judgment  and  sound  sense,  expressed  in 
the  most  temperate  terms.  His  discoiu'se  falls  into  three  parts,  in 
which  he  establishes  in  succession  the  three  foUomng  propositions : — 

I.  "  That  these  words  of  St.  Peter  are  so  far  fi-om  containing  a 
reason  why  the  people  should  not  read  them,  that,  first,  they  evi- 
dently suppose  the  common  people,  even  the  unlearned  among  them, 
did  in  those  days  read  the  Scriptures  :  else  they  could  not  have 
wrested  them,  as  the  apostle  says  they  did,  and  complains  of  that, 
but  not  of  their  reading  them  ;  and, 

II.  "  Secondly,  these  words  do  not  affii-m  the  whole  Scripture  to 
be  hard  to  be  understood,  but  only  some  jjart  of  it ;  St.  Paul's 
Epistles  at  the  most,  or  rather  the  things  of  which  St.  Peter  had 
been  treating ;  and  not  all  of  them  neither,  but  only  some  things, 
hvavor^Ta  Tiva,  some  few  things  which  would  requu-e  pains  and  dili- 
gent attention  of  mind  to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  them :  and, 

III.  "  Thirdly,  the  apostle  doth  not  say  that  all  who  read  those 
difficult  passages  are  in  danger  to  wrest  them,  but  only  the  un- 
learned and  unstable,  who  abuse  the  plainest  tniths  to  their  own 
ruin.  As  for  others,  they  may  read  even  the  hardest  places  in  St. 
Paul's  Epistles  safely  enough,  nay,  receive  great  profit  fi-om  thence, 
as  well  as  from  other  Scriptiures  ;  and  they  who  west  them  are  not 
to  leave  the  reading  them,  but  to  grow  in  true  Christian  knowledge, 
and  in  stability  of  mind." 

This  little  treatise  was  the  first  that  was  wi'itten  against  Romish 
principles  after  the  accession  to  the  throne  of  a  prince  who  had  un- 
disguisedly,  and  with  the  utmost  zeal,  espoused  those  sentiments.  It 
was  undertaken  immediately  after  the  death  of  king  Charles,  having 
been  begun,  March  ii,  1685'.  This  is  in  itself  no  slight  trait  of  the 
writer's  firmness  and  decision  of  principle.  As  it  was,  it  attracted 
the  notice  of  the  king's  censor  of  the  press,  L'Estrange,  by  whom  its 
publication  was  suspended  for  a  time.  It  appears  that  the  com-t  was 
umvilling  that  any  reply  should  be  made  to  the  arguments  lately 
'  Vol.  ix.  p.  484 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxi 


advanced  by  Barnes  the  Benedictine  monk  against  the  free  use  of  the 
Scriptures.  On  Patrick's  assurance  that  no  reference  was  intended 
to  father  Barnes'  work,  Search  the  Scriptures  had  permission  to 
come  forth.  It  formed  a  small  i2mo  volume,  dated  1685,  and  has 
been  since  reprinted,  in  company  with  the  treatise  on  Tradition,  in 
the  successive  editions  of  the  Preservative  against  Popery. 


A  Sermon  on  St.  Peter's  Day,  &c. 

This  sermon,  originally  preached  on  St.  Peter's  Day,  June  29, 1686, 
having  been,  at  the  request  of  some  who  heard  it,  printed  "  with  some 
enlargements,"  so  as  to  invest  it  with  the  form  of  a  controversial  trea- 
tise, has  been  inserted  in  this  place,  rather  than  among  the  author's 
discourses  from  the  pulpit.  It  contains  a  sober  and  sensible  conside- 
ration of  the  text  (Matt.  xvi.  1 8)  which  is  most  prominently  adduced 
in  defence  of  the  supposed  primacy  of  order  conferred  upon  St.  Peter 
among  the  twelve  apostles,  and  of  the  claim  founded  thereon  on  be- 
half of  the  pope  to  supremacy  over  the  universal  chm'ch  of  Christ. 
The  first  part  treats  of  the  occasion  on  which  the  Saviour's  words  to 
Peter  were  spoken :  the  second  of  the  purport  of  the  word  Rock,  and 
its  application  to  Peter  in  particular,  or  to  the  faith  which  he  pro- 
fessed :  in  the  third  the  general  inferences  are  summed  up  against 
the  papal  autocracy,  supported  by  a  catena  of  authorities  from  pa- 
ti'istic  sources  and  ecclesiastical  history,  as  well  as  the  more  mode- 
rate writers  within  the  communion  of  Rome  itself. 


The  Texts  examined  which  Papists  cite  out  of  the  Bible 
TO  prove  the  supremacy  of  St.  Peter  and  of  the  Pope 

OVER  THE  whole  ChURCH. 

A  collection  of  tracts  by  leading  members  of  the  metropolitan 
clergy,  in  refutation  of  the  papal  pretensions,  was  published  by 
Chiswell  in  1688  in  a  quarto  volume,  comprising  nine  separate 
tracts,  and  having  prefixed  an  introduction  from  the  pen  of  Tcnison, 
"  Popery  not  founded  on  Scripture,  or  the  texts  which  PajMsts  cite 
out  of  the  Bible  for  the  proof  of  the  points  of  their  religion  exa- 
mined :  and  shewed  to  be  alleged  without  ground." 

The  series  was  not  accompanied  by  the  names  of  the  respective 


cxii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


writers,  but  they  were  for  the  most  part  to  be  recognized  by  the  aid 
of  common  report,  or  were  subsequently  acknowledged  by  their  au- 
thors. Patrick's  share,  though  not  distinctly  alluded  to  in  his  Auto- 
biography, is  placed  by  independent  evidence  beyond  all  possibility 
of  doubt. 

Patrick's  continbution,  consisting  of  two  parts,  related  to  those 
passages  of  Holy  Scriptm-e  which  were  popularly  put  forward  by 
the  advocates  of  Piome,  to  substantiate  the  fiction  of  St.  Peter's  su- 
premacy over  the  imiversal  church,  and  of  the  popes  as  his  perpetual 
successors  in  that  supposed  primacy. 

Anthony  Wood  has  been  led  into  the  error  of  assigning  Patrick's 
portion  of  the  argument  to  Dr.  John  Williams,  whose  actual  share 
related  to  the  texts  concerning  the  insufficiency  of  Scripture  and  ne- 
cessity of  tradition, — Athen.  Oxon.  iv.  772.  He  has  been  coirected 
in  this  misrepresentation  by  Gee,  in  the  Catalogue  of  Discom-ses  for 
and  against  Popery,  p.  207.  Cont.  p.  76;  followed  by  Peck,  p.  47. 


The  Secoxd  Xote  of  the  Church  examixed, 
viz.  axtiquity. 

Another  united  effort,  mainly  on  the  part  of  the  same  body  of  metro- 
politan clergy,  towards  the  refutation  of  the  papal  claims,  consisted  of 
a  series  of  short  critical  papers,  in  which  the  eighteen  notes  laid 
down  by  Bellarmine,  as  characteristics  of  the  true  Chmx-h  of  Chi-ist, 
were  severally  reviewed,  and  the  arguments  refuted  whereby  he  pre- 
tended to  identify  those  essential  signs  of  catholicity  with  the  see  of 
Eome  exclusively.  This  voliune,  published  in  4to  by  Chiswell  in 
1688,  comprised  a  corresponding  number  of  treatises  under  the 
common  title,  "  The  Notes  of  the  Church,  as  laid  down  by  Cardinal 
Bellarmiu,  examined  and  confuted." 

The  Second  Xote,  Antiquity,  fell  to  Patrick's  share  His  argu- 
ment upon  it  was  composed  in  the  spring  of  1687,  the  imprimatwr  of 
Bancroft's  chaplain,  Battely,  bearing  date  April  5,  in  that  year.  It 
is  but  brief,  extending  to  no  more  than  a  dozen  pages ;  yet  rebuts 
ably  the  spurious  plea  of  antiquity,  as  put  forth  in  defence  of  the 
modem  conniptions  of  Eome,  and  establishes  Avith  conciseness  and 
force  the  three  follo-\ving  propositions  : — 

See  vol.  ix.  p.  490. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxiii 


1 .  "  That  the  plea  of  bare  antiquity  is  not  proper  to  the  church, 
but  common  to  it  with  other  societies  of  false  religion. 

2.  "  That  true  antiquity  is  not  on  the  side  of  the  present  Roman 
church.  But, 

3.  "  That  it  is  on  ours." 

Some  animadversions  having  been  made  upon  Patrick's  tract  by 
an  anonymous  Romish  wi'iter,  in  "  Advice  to  the  Confuter  of  Bellar- 
mine,  with  some  considerations  upon  the  Antiquity  of  the  Church  of 
England,"  a  rejoinder  was  put  forth  by  Dr.  Tully,  entitled  "  A  De- 
fence of  the  Confuter  of  Bellarmin's  Second  Note  of  the  Church, 
Antiquity,  against  the  cavils  of  the  Adviser."  Tully's  pamphlet  was 
licensed  May  31,  1687'. 


The  Pillar  and  Ground  of  Truth. 

This  treatise,  also  written  early  in  the  year  1687,  and  licensed  for 
publication  by  the  primate's  chaplain.  May  9,  is  the  most  finished  and 
systematic  of  Patrick's  anti-Roman  compositions. 

In  confutation  of  the  Romish  argument  commonly  based  upon 
St.  Paul's  description  of  the  Church  of  ilie,  living  God  (i  Tim.  iii.  15). 
Patrick  considers  at  length, 

1.  "  What  that  truth  is  of  which  the  Church,  or  Timothy,  or  both, 
were  the  pilla/r  cmd  ground. 

2.  "  What  it  is  to  be  a  pillwr  imd  ground  of  truth. 

3.  "  Who  it  is  to  whom  this  office  and  honour  belongs,  of  being 
the  filla/r  cmd  grownd  of  the  truth;  or  what  we  mean  when  we  say, 
the  chwrch  is  intrusted  therewith. 

4.  "  How  it  discharges  that  office." 

Under  the  first  head  he  demonstrates  that  the  truth  spoken  of  lay 
in  those  essential  and  fundamental  verities  which  were  comprised  in 
the  Apostles'  Creed,  and  further  defined,  although  not  properly  speak- 
ing added  to,  in  the  Nicene  and  Athanasian  fonnulas  :  from  whence 
"  it  necessarily  follows  that  no  man  can  justly  be  called  a  heretic  who 
heartily  embraces  and  steadfastly  holds  to  this  faith." 

The  second  part  makes  it  clear,  from  the  general  analogy  of  scrip- 

'  Peck's  Catalogue,  p.  46. 

h 


CXIV 


EDITOR^S  PREFACE. 


tural  language,  and  an  extensive  collation  of  patristic  passages,  that 
the  property  here  attributed  to  the  church  of  God  is  distinctive  of 
the  entire  body  of  the  church  universal,  and  every  particular  portion 
of  that  body  corporate  which  faithfully  retains  those  fundamental 
articles  of  the  truth.  It  is  in  consequence  no  mere  differentia,  whereby 
the  chm-ch  of  Rome  or  any  other  individual  branch  is  isolated  fi-om 
the  catholic  stem.  "  The  church  keeps  the  tinith,  and  keeps  it  up  : 
it  is  the  conservator  of  it,  and  presel•^-es  it  from  falling  to  the 
gi-ound  :  it  proclaims  it,  and  holds  it  forth  to  others  :  it  continues 
the  ti-uth  in  the  world,  and  settles  it  in  men's  minds  :  but  itself  is 

built  upon  this  tnith,  not  the  truth  upon  it."  "  Every  particular 

church  therefore  is  a  pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth,  one  as  well  and 
as  much  as  another  "a."  Nay,  indiA^dual  members  of  the  chm-ch, 
apostles,  martyi-s,  saints,  eminent  pastors  and  doctors  are  shown  to 
be  fitly  entitled  to  the  same  honourable  designation. 

The  thu-d  part  treats  of  the  mode  in  which  the  chm-ch  discharges 
its  high  function  as  a  pillar'  and  ground  of  the  truth.  Its  authority, 
relatively  to  that  of  the  Holy  Scnptures,  is  defined  yvith  clearness 
and  precision.  "  God  hath  ajjpoiutcd  outward  means  for  the  con- 
veying divine  truth  to  our  belief,  and  this  means  is  ordinarily  the 
church  :  to  which  we  ascribe  these  two  great  thinos  in  this  business. 
First,  the  office  of  a  witness,  testif)-ing  the  authority  of  Holy  Scrip- 
ture to  us  :  secondly,  of  an  instrument  in  God's  hand  to  lead  us  into 
the  understanding  of  the  Scriptures,  and  by  its  ministry  in  preach- 
ing and  expounding  them  to  beget  a  divine  faith  in  us "."  It  hath 
therefore  "  not  a  sovereign,  absolute,  prophetical  authority  inde- 
pendent upon  the  rule  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  so  that  we  must  take 
whatsoever  it  saith  for  true  without  consulting  them  ;"  it  hath  "  no 
authority  to  propoimd  any  doctrine  as  necessary  to  salvation,  which 
is  not  delivered  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  but  depends  solely  on  the 
authority  of  its  own  tradition"." 

With  respect  to  the  infallibity  of  the  chm-ch,  or  its  inability  to 
lapse  fi-om  tlie  truth, — "  if  by  the  church,  indeed,  they  would  under- 
stand the  church  truly  catholic,  the  whole  body  of  Christ  in  all  times, 
places  and  ages ;  and  if  by  matters  of  faith  they  would  understand 
those  gi-and  articles  which  I  have  mentioned  in  the  first  part  of  this 
discourse ;  and  if  by  being  infallible  they  would  understand,  not  an 
absolute  impossibility  of  erring,  (which  human  nature  is  not  capable 

m  Pp.  133,  137.  n  P.  ,57.  o  P.  160. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxv 


of,)  but  not  actual  error  ;  there  are  none  of  us  make  any  question 
but  the  chui-ch  is  infallible.  That  is,  the  whole  church  hath  not 
erred,  nor  shall  err  in  the  whole  faith,  or  in  any  necessary  part 
thereof :  for  such  error  would  cut  men  off  fi-om  Christ  the  head,  and 
so  leave  him  no  church  at  all.  It  hath  been  the  very  scope  of  my 
first  discourse  to  show  that  the  church  hath  always  kept  the  great 
fundamental  truths  of  our  religion,  and  not  erred  in  them,  but 
transmitted  them  down  to  us  whole  and  undefiled  :  till  the  church 
of  Eome  in  the  council  of  Trent  corrupted  the  faith  by  their  errors 
which  they  have  mixed  with  it.  For  to  a  particular  church,  such  as 
that  of  Rome  is,  we  cannot  allow  this  privilege  of  not  erring  ;  be- 
cause we  know  they  have  erred,  even  in  fundamental  truths,  and 
thereby  ceased  to  be  churches.  Witness  those  glorious  churches  to 
which  Christ  himself  sent  his  letters  by  St.  John  the  Apostle  P." 

From  the  same  premises  it  is  seen  to  follow,  finally,  "  that  this 
church  in  which  we  are  is  certainly  as  much  a  pilla/r  and  ground  of 
truth  as  any  other  ;  nay,  more  than  many  other  churches.  That  is, 
we  hold,  and  assert  and  maintain,  all  those  things  which  have  always 
been  and  are  confessed  by  all  Christians  :  the  true,  ancient,  catholic 
and  apostolic  faith,  and  the  Holy  Scrijitures,  wherein  this  faith  is 
originally  contained.  And  if  we  know  any  thing  else  to  be  the  mind 
of  God,  delivered  to  us  from  Clu'ist  and  his  apostles,  by  the  universal 
church,  we  are  prepared  to  receive  it ;  and,  did  it  appear,  would  im- 
mediately embrace  and  jjropagate  it.  But  the  universal  church,  as 
I  have  shown,  hath  declared  this  to  be  sufficient,  nay,  full  and  per- 
fect :  and  moreover,  forbidden  any  other  faith  to  be  either  composed 
or  offered  to  those  who  would  become  Chi'istiansl." 


An  Answer  to  the  Touchstone  of  the  Reformed 
Gospel. 

In  a  note  on  the  preface  to  this  work  (vol.  vii.  p.  183),  some  ac- 
count will  be  found  of  the  little  Romish  treatise  which  gave  occasion 
to  Patrick's  reply. 

The  "Gagge  of  the  Reformed  Gospel,"  attributed  to  Kellison, 
first  appeared  in  1623.    Having  been  exposed  and  refuted  in  1625, 


p  P.  i6i.  4  P.  168. 

h  2 


cxvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


by  Mountagu  and  Bernard,  little  more  was  heard  of  it,  until  it  came 
forth  once  more  in  1667,  under  a  new  title,  and  with  a  few  varia- 
tions in  contents  and  ai-raugement,  as  the  "  Touchstone  of  the  Ee- 
formed  Gospel."  More  than  one  edition  was  circulated,  a  second 
coming  out  in  8vo  in  1675,  another  in  i2mo  in  1677,  and  "the 
last  edition  more  correct"  in  1685. 

Allusion  has  been  made  in  the  same  note  to  the  erroneous  hypo- 
thesis of  Strype,  in  attempting  to  identify  the  Touchstone  ^vith  the 
still  earlier  publication  of  a  well  known  Romish  champion,  Bristow's 
Motives,  published  as  early  as  1574,  to  which  answers  were  written 
by  Fulke  and  Oliver  Carter. 

Loose  and  uncritical  as  it  was  in  argument,  and  throughout  false 
and  unscrupulous  in  statement  and  citation,  the  Touchstone  was  able 
by  its  boldness  and  confidence  of  tone  to  make  a  considerable  sensation 
at  a  time  of  active  controversy.  On  its  first  appearance  under  that 
title  in  1667,  the  challenge  was  taken  up  by  an  anonymous  hand  in 
"  Touchstone  Proof,  and  the  Touchstone  itself  tried  by  the  test  and 
balance  of  the  sanctutry  ;  or  the  Pi'otestaut's  reply  to  a  scandalous, 
pernicious,  popish  pamphlet,  entituled  The  Touchstone  of  the  Re- 
formed Gospel,  '  the  last  edition,'  as  it  is  there  distributed  into  52 
heads,  and  points  (so  called) ;  but  here  dashed  into  at  least  an  100 
pieces,  wi-itten  forth  by  T.  W."    It  is  dedicated  "  to  the  virtuous 

Gent.  Mi's.  J.  L  "  by  whom  the  "  charges  and  objections"  which 

are  here  answered  were  "  first  produced  to  him  in  her  house,  being 
lent  to  her  as  a  choice  convincing  piece  by  some  Roman  catholick 
neighbom's."  Tlie  author  states  that  he  was  "  procured  by  the  same 
lady  within  a  short  space  a  sight  and  short  survey  of  the  printed 
pamjjhlet  itself,"  and  was  induced  to  publish  his  reply  by  her 
remark,  "  that  it  was  not  fit  so  dangerous  a  book  should  walk 
about  ith'  world  without  controll  or  answer." 

An  epistle  dedicatory  prefixed  to  the  reply  of  T.  W.  is  dated  Jan. 
22,  1666(1667.)  "^'i^  preface  is  addressed  "to  the  simple  honest 
reader,  whom  the  sequel  especially  concerneth  ;  and  nevertheless  to 
the  knowing-worthy  knight  Sir  C.  T.  of  T.,  and  to  all  other  noble, 
ingenuous,  and  ingenious  persons  that  are  or  would  be  members  of 
the  true  catholick  church  of  Christ,  grace,  mercy  and  peace  is  sin- 
cerely wished."  The  several  heads  of  the  Touchstone  are  answered 
seriatim,  chiefly  by  counter  texts,  and  with  the  utmost  conciseness, 
the  whole  not  extending  to  more  than  sixteen  pages  in  length. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


CXVII 


Patrick's  Answer  is  more  lengthy  and  elaborate,  and  his  exposure 
of  its  sophisms  and  inaccuracies  move  complete  and  crushing.  He 
reviews  his  opponent's  positions  one  by  one,  and  subjects  his  cita- 
tions, first  fi'om  ecclesiastical  sources,  then  from  the  inspired  text,  to 
careful  though  temperate  ci'iticism.  The  common  difficulty  is 
throughout  apparent,  which  attended  all  theological  controversy 
doAvn  to  that  date,  in  the  want  of  an  authentic  text,  to  which  appeal 
could  be  made,  on  reference  to  the  patristic  wi'itings.  Few  critical 
editions  of  the  fathers  had  as  yet  been  given  to  the  world,  and  those 
of  the  Greek  church  in  particular  were  still  largely  quoted  through 
the  medium  of  Latin  versions  alone.  The  third  rate  emissaries 
whom  the  church  of  Rome  ordinarily  sent  forth  from  Doway  or  St. 
Omer's,  or  even  the  capital  of  the  papacy  itself,  for  the  reduction  of 
the  strongholds  of  protestant  learning  and  orthodoxy  in  this  country, 
were  but  meanly  equipped  with  the  weapons  of  Hellenistic  scholar- 
ship. Even  their  great  armoury  in  the  pages  of  Bellarmine  supplied 
them  with  little  more  than  Latin  texts,  a  great  proportion  of  which, 
if  not  designedly  and  studiously  falsified,  were  liable  under  the 
slightest  application  of  a  critical  touchstone  to  be  cast  aside  as  spu- 
rious or  irrelevant.  A  large  proitortion  of  the  passages  on  which 
Patrick  is  here  at  issue  with  his  opponent  turn  ultimately  upon  this 
point ;  and  the  controversial  value  of  his  labours  is  unavoidably  di- 
minished to  later  readers,  in  proportion  as  the  early  and  medieval 
literature  of  Christianity  has  since  been  placed  on  a  footing  of  com- 
parative exactness  and  authenticity,  whither  at  least  scholars  of  either 
side  may  agi-ee  to  refer  their  differences.  To  the  communion  of 
Rome  herself,  through  the  labours  of  the  great  Benedictine  order,  is 
the  modern  world  not  a  little  indebted  for  the  means  of  more  critically 
sifting  the  materials  for  theological  judgment. 

It  will  not  be  denied  that  Patrick  has  made  a  judicious  and  tem- 
perate use  of  the  means  at  his  command,  in  order  to  counteract  the 
feeble  sophisms  and  misrejiresentations  of  the  Popish  "  Touchstone." 
Its  several  sections  are  taken  seriatim,  and  the  ti'ue  doctrine  of  the 
church  of  England  stated  with  reference  to  each  in  plain  and  popu- 
lar terms. 

Neither  of  the  two  remaining  works  of  this  polemical  series  calls 
for  vei-y  particular  or  detailed  notice.  To  reprint  Patrick's  transla- 
tion of  the  six  books  of  Grotius,  Be  VerikUe  Reliyionis  Christiana', 
has  been  thought  superfluous.    His  own  supplementary  chapter,  ap- 


cxvni 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


peuded  in  the  form  of  a  seventh  book,  has  alone  been  induded. 
Patrick's  undertaking  was  not  to  provide  a  new  translation  of  that 
valuable  treatise ;  but  simply  to  revise  that  which  had  been  put  forth 
anonymously  in  this  countiy  nearly  fifty  years  before.  So  numerous, 
however,  were  its  blunders  in  scholarship,  or  misapprehensions  of  the 
original,  that  his  task  became  tautaniount  to  an  entirely  fresh  ver- 
sion. In  the  seventh  book,  carrpng  on  the  arguments  of  Grotius  in 
closer  application  to  the  requirements  of  the  age  and  country,  he 
aimed  at  establishing — that  the  divisions  among  Christians  in  no 
way  affected  the  proof  of  the  authenticity  and  divine  origin  of  the 
religion  itself ; — that  the  chiu-cli  of  Eome  in  particular  must  not  be 
taken  by  her  perversions  and  additions  to  the  faith,  must  not  be  held 
to  have  compromised  the  character  of  the  Gospel  itself,  or  be  allowed 
to  speak  ■\^•ith  the  authority  of  the  whole  Christian  body; — that 
"  Christian  religion  hath  suffered  very  much  by  the  church  of  Rome  : 
and  that  we  need  not  go  thither  to  be  assured  of  tlie  ti-uth  of  that 
religion,  but  shall  be  ])etter  informed  in  our  own  church  by  the 
Holy  Scriptures  and  such  works  as  these''."  In  conclusion,  he  briefly 
adverts  to  the  possibility  of  a  reconciliation  with  Rome,  is  disposed 
to  adopt  the  general  propositions  drawn  up  hy  Erasmus  as  early  as 
the  year  1 5 1 9,  with  the  view  of  stajnng  the  progi-ess  of  disintegra- 
tion  in  the  Western  church. 

The  tAvo  short  fragments  Ox  Schism  formed  part  of  a  series  of 
papers  written  at  the  request  of  the  Countess  of  Lindsay,  towards 
the  end  of  the  year  1685.  Patrick  had  long  known  that  lady,  in  all 
probability  as  a  parishioner  ;  and  now,  at  the  instigation  of  a  female 
acquaintance,  who  reported  her  to  be  wavering  in  her  religion,  made 
strenuous  attempts  to  confirm  her  in  allegiance  to  the  church  of 
England.  On  five  separate  occasions  he  provided  her  with  written 
statements  in  reply  to  the  objections  which  her  Romish  advisers  had 
put  into  her  mouth'.  The  lady's  mind  seems  from  the  first  to  have 
been  made  up  in  an  adverse  sense  ;  for,  after  fencing  feebly  awhile 
with  the  dissuasives  he  had  iutei-posed,  she  had  recourse  to  a  secret 
reconciliation  with  the  church  of  Rome  on  St.  Paul's  Day,  (Jan.  25, 

'  Vol.  vii.  p.  349. 

•  Vol.  ix.  p.  501.  The  present  case  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  earlier 
conversion  of  lady  Ann  Lindsay,  recorded  by  Baxter,  (Letter,  Dec.  i,  1660. 
Reliq.  part  i.  p.  219-228.)  The  latter  lady  was  of  a  wholly  distinct  family, 
the  daughter  of  Alexander  first  earl  of  Balcarres. — See  Lives  of  the  Lindsays, 
ii.  115. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxix 


1686.)  Tliese  two  portions  of  the  series  have  alone  been  preserved, 
having,  by  some  channel  which  cannot  now  be  traced,  found  their  way 
into  the  collection  of  MSS.  formed  by  bishop  Barlow,  and  deposited, 
after  the  latter 's  death,  in  the  library  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford. 


Sermons. 

It  was  probably  as  a  preacher  that  this  eminent  divine  succeeded 
in  making  himself  most  revered  by  his  contemporaries,  and  through 
the  medium  of  his  pulpit  oratory  that  he  was  able  to  exei'cise  the 
most  powerful  and  extended  influeuce.  "  Patrick,"  writes  Burnet, 
himself  no  mean  authority,  or  contemptible  rival  in  the  same  de- 
partment, "  was  a  great  preacher'."  In  the  diary  of  Henry  Sidney, 
a  man  of  religious  habits,  and  one  of  the  most  refined  and  cultivated 
gentlemen  of  his  day,  he  is  described  in  identical  terms  as  "  a  great 
preacher,  and  a  man  of  an  eminently  shining  life,  who  will  be  a  great 
ornament  to  the  episcopal  order"."  Dunton,  the  eccentric,  but 
shrewd  and  observant  bookseller,  records  his  most  popular  appella- 
tive to  have  been  that  of  "  the  preaching  bishop"."  Filling  for  the 
important  period  between  the  Bartholomew  act  and  the  revolution 
the  most  prominent  and  influential  of  the  parochial  pulpits  of  the 
metropolis,  with  perhaps  the  single  exception  of  St.  Martin's  in  the 
Fields,  and  after  his  elevation  to  the  episcopal  bench  so  indefatigable 
in  that  clio^^en  branch  of  his  calling  as  scarcely  to  have  let  a  week 
elapse  to  the  day  of  his  decease  that  he  did  not  deliver  one  sermon 
at  the  least,  his  celebrity  was  upheld  to  the  end  in  the  estimation 
of  the  public  as  one  of  the  most  learned,  graceful,  and  impressive 
orators  of  the  time.  Evelyn  and  other  well  qualified  judges  have 
placed  on  record  their  testimony  to  the  attraction  and  the  power 
which  his  discourses  exercised  upon  themselves,  as  well  as  to  the 
crowds  that  flocked  to  his  ministrations,  and  the  reverence  with 
which  the  most  educated  and  fastidious  congregations  listened  to 
his  voice. 

Without  aspiring  to  be  models  of  eloquence  in  the  proper  sense 
of  the  word,  Patrick's  published  discourses  present  sufficient  of  the 
qualities  which  best  commend  the  appeals  of  a  Christian  teacher 
to  explain  the  fact  of  his  acknowledged  impressiveness  and  popu- 

'  Burnet,  i.  326.  u  Sidney's  Diary,  ii.  282. 

»  Life  .and  errors  of  .lohn  Dunton,  p.  362. 


cxx 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


laritv.  In  point  of  style  they  raay  be  classed  most  nearly  with 
those  of  Tillotson,  as  occupying  a  middle  place  between  the  severe 
and  somewhat  pedantic  classsicality  of  the  age  that  preceded  theirs, 
and  the  freedom,  simplicity,  and  ease  aimed  at  in  the  modern  pulpit. 
Grave,  earnest,  and  scriptural  in  substance,  plain  and  perspicuous 
in  language,  the  per\-ading  desire  of  their  author  is  not  to  leave  his 
audience  impressed  with  admiration  for  the  man,  but  full  of  the 
divine  message  which  he  preached,  with  minds  enlarged,  affections 
purified,  and  wills  subdued.  Thev  set  forth  with  clearness,  and  often 
with  force  and  beauty,  the  truths  of  Christian  faith,  and  the  motives 
to  Christian  holiness.  It  is  not  often  indeed  that  discourses  of  any 
kind,  whether  from  the  tribune  or  the  pulpit,  justify  to  the  critical 
judgment  of  a  later  day  the  verdict  of  applause  which  g)-eeted  their 
first  delivery,  any  more  than  what  are  now  held  masterpieces  of 
oratorical  skill  were  successful  in  rivetting  and  mastering  the  minds 
of  their  first  hearers.  Imagination  itself  is  unequal  to  the  task  of 
restoring  in  any  competent  degree  those  several  elements  of  power 
which  the  written  page  necessarily  fails  to  transmit,  but  which, 
beyond  even  the  utmost  force  of  words,  wield  an  ascendancy  and  a 
fascination  over  a  living  auditory  ; — the  charm  of  voice  and  manner  ; 
the  moral  sway  of  fervour,  graciousness  and  zeal ;  the  atmosphere 
of  sincerity  and  faith  which  is  breathed  in  every  utterance  of  the 
lips,  and,  more  than  all  mere  eloquence  of  phrase,  commends  the 
preacher's  message  to  the  heart.  Lost  too  are  the  many  subtle  and 
indefinable  shades  of  meaning  which  connected  his  language  with 
themes  of  the  hour ;  with  modes  of  thought,  conflicts  of  spirit,  reli- 
gious animosities,  personal  hopes  and  fears,  most  real  to  the  first 
hearers,  but.  now  in  great  measure  passed  out  of  living  knowledge. 
The  spark  of  sympathy  struck  out  by  contact  with  the  wants,  ideas, 
and  feelings  of  a  remote  age,  is  not  readily  elicited  in  answer  to 
those  of  another. 

If  Patrick's  discourses  omit  to  manifest  some  of  the  varied  and 
complex  elements  which  unite  to  qualify  the  perfect  preacher,  or 
even  in  some  respects  fall  short  of  actual  models  which  have  come 
down  from  his  own  or  other  ages  of  the  church,  thev  will  notwith- 
standing retain  interest  and  edification  for  the  reader  who  looks  for 
solid  and  serious  rather  than  specious  and  brilliant  fruits.  Too  few, 
unfortunately,  have  been  handed  down  for  an  accurate  opinion  to  be 
formed  of  his  ordinary  manner  of  dealing  with  the  sacred  topics  of 
the  pulpit.    The  great  majority  relate  to  events  and  occasions  of  a 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


CXXl 


public  or  political  kind,  such  as  were  least  calculated  to  elicit  the 
powers,  or  give  scope  to  the  aspirations  of  a  mind  more  especially 
alive  to  spiritual  truth  in  its  inner  or  contemplative  aspect,  and  fitted 
to  direct  and  edify  the  soul  of  the  individual  Christian,  rather  than 
to  guide  and  control  the  action  of  the  multitude.  Scarcely  any  ex- 
hibit him  as  he  habitually  bent  his  earnest  powers  to  unfold  the 
great  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  to  preach  Christ  in  his  person  and 
operations,  to  awaken  sinners,  to  sustain  the  penitent,  to  console  the 
mourner,  to  confirm  the  wavering,  or  to  abash  the  infidel.  The 
ablest  and  most  characteristic  of  the  series  are  unquestionably  the 
earliest  in  point  of  date  ;  reflecting  the  fresh  vigour  of  his  youthful 
powers,  unsubdued  as  yet  by  the  cares  and  burdens  of  his  maturer 
years.  The  chronological  order  in  which  they  are  here  presented 
will  enable  this  contrast  to  be  the  more  clearly  noted.  First  in 
point  of  date  is  his  university  sermon,  "  The  Hypocritical  Nation  de- 
scribed," afterwards  expanded  into  the  treatise  called  Jewish  Ht- 
pocRisy.  To  this  succeed  three  discourses  preached  at  the  funerals 
of  friends,  foremost  among  whom  occurs  the  name  of  his  beloved 
tutor  and  father  in  the  faith,  the  gifted  and  early-lost  John  Smith, 
of  whom  he  never  speaks  without  terms  of  reverence  and  endear- 
ment, as  6  Trdw  (laKapiTrjs,  and  whose  noble  intellect  and  generous 
Christian  faith  had  been  largely  transfused  into  his  own  mental  con- 
stitution. Nothing  can  be  more  affectionate  and  pathetic  than  the 
strain  in  which  he  descants  upon  the  loss  to  the  church,  and  his  own 
j)ersonal  sorrow,  in  the  premature  death  of  one  so  promising  as  a 
teacher,  and  so  bright  as  an  example.  The  other  two  sermons 
of  the  same  class,  while  setting  forth  with  vigour  and  grace  the 
grounds  of  consolation  and  hope  under  the  bereavement  of  those 
who  sleep  in  Christ,  and  asserting  with  the  triumph  of  personal  con- 
viction the  Christian's  mastery  over  the  grave,  fall  short  of  the  first 
in  tenderness  of  expression  and  warmth  of  filial  regard. 

The  several  occasions  on  which  the  detached  sermons  following 
were  preached  have  in  each  instance  been  specified  in  the  notes. 
The  whole  of  those  published  in  his  lifetime  are  comprised  within 
part  of  the  seventh  and  eighth  volumes.  Two  only,  in  addition,  out 
of  the  multitude  he  is  known  to  have  left  behind,  have  been  re- 
covered in  manuscript,  and  are  now  printed  for  the  first  time,  in 
order  of  their  date,  from  the  originals  in  the  bishop's  handwriting 
preserved  in  the  Lambeth  library.    They  are  entitled  "  One  Media- 


cxxii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


tor,  one  Sacrifice,"  and  appear  to  have  been  destined  for  publication, 
bearing  the  imprimatur  of  archbishop  Sancroft's  chaplain,  though  for 
some  unknown  reason  never  committed  to  the  press 

These  sermons  are  followed  by  four  episcopal  charges  addressed 
to  the  clergy  of  the  diocese  of  Ely,  published  at  successive  visitations, 
and  in  1704  collected  into  a  lamo  volume,  under  a  common  title 
as  "  Discourses  upon  the  Duties  of  the  Ministry." 

The  ninth  volume  opens  with  fifteen  posthumous  sermons  on 
Contentment  and  Resignation  to  the  will  of  God.  These  discourses 
were  composed  prior  to  the  author's  marriage,  and  transcribed  by 
himself  for  presentation  to  Penelope  Jephson,  his  future  wife,  at  a 
time  when  she  was  harassed  by  scruples  arising  out  of  her  incon- 
siderate vow  of  celibacy,  and  unwilling  to  listen  to  Patrick's  suity. 
They  were  treasured  up  by  her  to  the  close  of  his  life,  and  twelve 
years  later  given  under  her  express  sanction  to  the  public.  Limiting 
himself  as  he  has  done  in  this  series  to  a  single  theme,  it  will  be 
thought  more  surprising  that  he  should  have  succeeded  in  setting 
it  in  so  many  solemn  and  striking  lights,  and  enforcing  it  by  such 
various  and  happy  illustrations,  than  that  he  should  have  failed  to 
propound  any  very  novel  or  original  theory  of  that  special  phase  of 
Christian  duty,  or  to  travel  beyond  the  plainest  and  most  simple  pre- 
cepts for  producing  the  temper  of  pious  contentment  and  holy  calm. 
In  their  prevailing  tone  they  reflect  much  of  the  gentle  quietism  and 
contemplative  piety  of  Hearts'  Ease  and  the  Parable  of  the  Pilgrim. 

A  sequel  to  the  series  is  formed  bv  two  discourses  on  the  Minis- 
trations of  Angels,  preached  on  Michaelmas  day,  1672,  in  which 
the  scriptural  intimations  of  that  lofty  and  mysterious  theme  are 
reviewed  with  judgment  and  reverence  in  connection  with  their  text. 
Matt,  xviii.  10,  and  elucidated  by  the  aids  of  oriental  and  patristic 
learning.  The  nature  and  conditions  of  angelic  being,  its  relation 
to  personal  life  and  action,  and  the  functions  allotted  to  such  spi- 
ritual agents  as  part  of  God's  special  providence  towards  mankind, 
are  severally  traced  in  the  course  of  the  argument,  which  is,  in  fine, 
brought  to  bear  with  much  impressiveuess  and  solemnity  upon  the 
personal  faith  and  duties  of  the  hearer. 

These  sermons  are  succeeded  by  Prayers  upon  certain  oc- 
casions connected  with  the  political  crisis  of  the  revolution.  The 
entire  series  issued  by  the  author  during  that  period  of  excitement 

Vol.  ix.  p.  463. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


CXXUl 


extended  to  five  in  number.  From  the  circumstance  of  tlieir  not 
bearing  the  writer's  name,  added  to  the  scarcity  of  copies,  great  dif- 
ficulty was  experienced  in  recovering  some  of  their  number.  The 
fourth  in  order  of  the  series  had  in  consequence  to  be  omitted 
from  its  proper  place,  no  impression  having  been  met  with  at  the 
time  of  going  to  press.  One  having  since  that  time  been  discovered 
in  the  library  of  Sion  college,  the  prayer  is  inserted  here.  Its  title 
and  general  jjurport  indicate  clearly  enough  the  juncture  of  public 
affairs  to  which  it  was  intended  to  apply. 


A  Prayer  for  perfecting  our  late  deliverance  by 

THE    HAPFY    success   OF   THEIR   MaJESTIEs'  FORCES 
BY    SEA    AND  LAND. 

"  O  most  mighty  Lord,  who  sittest  in  the  throne  judging  right,  and 
ministerest  judgment  to  the  people  in  righteousness  :  who  hast  promised 
to  be  a  refuge  for  the  oppressed,  a  refuge  in  times  of  trouble ;  we  most 
humbly  fall  down  before  thy  Majesty  to  beseech  thee  to  appear  at  this 
time  in  the  behalf  of  these  three  kinn;doms,  to  maintain  our  right  and  our 
cause  against  those  who  seek  to  destroy  us. 

Our  sins,  we  acknowledge,  may  justly  provoke  thee  to  deliver  us  up 
into  their  cruel  hands,  because  we  have  been  unthankful  for  many  in- 
estimable blessings,  particularly  the  late  wonderful  deliverance  thou  hast 
wrought  for  us,  as  we  have  been  incorrigible  under  our  former  distresses, 
and  all  the  punishments  thou  hast  inilicted  on  us. 

But  the  more  unworthy  we  are,  the  more  will  thy  mercy  be  magnified 
in  our  salvation.  And  therefore,  not  unto  us,  0  Lord,  not  unto  us  j  but 
unto  thy  name  give  glory  :  for  thy  mercy,  and  for  thy  truth's  sake.  Save 
us,  for  the  sake  of  thy  holy  religion,  which  in  a  marvellous  manner  hath 
been  both  planted  and  preserved  in  these  kingdoms  :  for  the  sake  of 
many  of  thy  faithful  servants  among  us,  who  are  afraid  of  thy  judgments, 
and  lay  to  heart  thy  mercies,  and  bewail  our  foul  ingratitude,  and  earnestly 
desire  to  see  sincere  piety  flourish  everywhere. 

Hear  their  prayer,  O  Lord,  and  let  their  cry  come  unto  thee.  Par- 
don their  former  uncharitableness  one  towards  another,  that  it  may  not 
hinder  the  blessings  they  desire.  And  give  us  grace,  for  the  time  to 
come,  to  live  in  love  and  peace,  and  to  seek  the  good  of  one  another. 

Thou  hast  been  our  he/per  ;  leave  us  not,  neither  forsake  us,  0  God  of 
our  salvation.  But,  as  thou  hast  fulfilled  our  petitions  and  granted  our 
hearts'  desire,  in  blasting  all  the  designs  of  our  enemies  in  this  kingdom, 
so  we  beseech  thee  still  to  confound  and  turn  them  backward  that  labour 
to  regain  their  power  to  do  us  evil.  Make  them  still  as  the  grass  on  the 
housetop,  which  vnthereth  before  il  he  groirn  up.    Whatsoever  mischief 


CXXIV 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


they  project  or  attempt,  let  not  their  hand  be  able  to  perform  their 
enterprise. 

Suffer  not  that  glorious  work  (which  thy  goodness  hath  begun)  to  mis- 
carry by  our  frowardness  and  folly :  but  strengthen,  0  God,  and  stablish 
that  which  thou  hast  wrought  for  us,  and  carry  it  on  to  perfection  by  thy 
own  Almighty  arm,  which  hath  been  stretched  out  against  those  who  went 
about  to  subvert  our  laws,  liberties,  and  religion.  As  thou  hast  beaten 
down  all  arbitrary  and  antichristian  power  among  us  in  a  most  remark- 
able manner,  so  never  suffer  it  to  rise  up  again ;  but  proceed,  O  Most 
Mighty,  to  crush  it  everywhere  else,  till  it  be  utterly  suppressed. 

And,  for  that  end,  we  beseech  thee  to  unite  all  our  hearts  in  such  sin- 
cere affection  and  right  understanding,  that  we  may  be  in  a  condition  not 
only  to  defend  ourselves,  but  to  help  other  reformed  churches  that  are  or 
may  be  in  danger.  Discover  to  every  one  among  us  their  errors,  root  out 
their  false  principles,  satisfy  all  their  doubts  and  scniples,  remove  their 
prejudices,  open  their  eyes  to  see  the  things  which  belong  to  our  peace  : 
that  we  may  be  disposed  with  one  mind  and  one  mouth  to  glorify  thy 
name  for  rescuing  us  from  popery  and  arbitrary  power,  and  to  join  our 
fruitful  endeavours  for  the  support  of  his  authority  who  was  the  blessed 
instrument  of  that  deliverance. 

Establish  the  throne  of  our  sovereign  lord  and  lady,  king  William  and 
queen  Mary,  and  let  them  all  be  put  to  shame  who  set  themselves  to 
overthrow  it.  Protect  their  royal  persons ;  prolong  their  days ;  direct 
their  counsels  ;  make  their  forces  by  sea  and  land  victorious ;  crown  them 
with  all  personal  and  princely  virtues  :  and  then  crown  those  virtues  with 
such  prosperous  successes  in  all  their  enterprises,  that  the  world  may  see 
in  them  the  love  thou  bearest  to  righteous  and  pious  rulers. 

Particularly  we  beseech  thee  to  succeed  their  endeavours  for  the  de- 
liverance of  our  brethren  in  Ireland,  whom  thou  hast  suffered  to  fall 
under  that  power  from  which  thy  merciful  Providence  hath  rescued  us. 
Make  haste,  0  Lord,  to  help  them,  by  sending  timely  succours  for  their 
relief,  and  accompanying  them  with  thy  blessing.  Make  the  winds  and 
the  seas  favourable  to  them,  and  when  thou  hast  transported  them  thither 
and  given  them  a  safe  landing  there,  strike  a  terror  into  all  their  opposers, 
that  they  may  not  be  able  to  stand  before  them.  Make  us  all  sensible 
that  whatsoever  preparations  are  made  against  the  day  of  battle,  safety  is 
of  thee,  O  Lord;  that  so  we  may  not  trust  to  our  own  strength  or  wisdom, 
but  call  continually  unto  thee,  the  Most  High,  who  shall  perform  the  cause 
which  we  have  in  hand. 

For  whensoever  we  call  upon  thee,  faithfully,  then  shall  our  enemies  be 
put  to  flight  J  this  we  know,  for  God  is  on  our  side. 

O  be  thou  our  help  in  trouble,  for  vain  is  the  help  of  man. 

Through  thee  we  shall  do  great  acts,  for  it  is  thou  that  shalt  tread  down 
our  enemies. 

Be  thou  exalted  in  thy  own  strength ;  so  shall  we  sing  and  praise  thy 
power. 

And  bless,  we  also  beseech  thee,  the  forces  that  are  now  confederate 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE.  cxxv 

against  him  who  hath  dealt  perfidiously  with  all  his  neighbours,  and  most 
grievously  afflicted  them  a  long  time  with  injurious  wars.  Favour  their 
righteous  cause  with  such  success  that  they  may  humble  him,  and  lay 
him  low,  that  he  may  not  be  able  to  trouble  the  world  any  more.  Hear 
the  complaint  of  those  oppressed  people,  who  cry  unto  thee,  saying,  0  God 
to  whom  vengeance  belongeth,  0  God  to  whom  vengeance  belongeth,  shew 
thyself. 

Lift  up  thyself,  thou  Judge  of  the  earth,  and  render  a  reward  to  the 
■proud. 

Arise,  0  Lord,  lift  up  thy  hand,  forget  not  the  poor,  let  not  their  expect- 
ation perish  for  ever. 

Let  not  their  haughty  oppression  have  the  upper  hand  j  but  let  them  be 
judged  in  thy  sight. 

Put  them  in  fear,  0  Lord,  that  they  may  know  themselves  to  be  but  men. 

So  will  we  praise  thee  for  ever,  because  thou  hast  done  it. 

We  will  sing  of  thy  power,  and  of  thy  mercy,  because  thou  hast  been  our 
defence  and  refuge  in  the  day  of  our  trouble. 

Unto  thee,  0  our  strength,  will  we  sing  :  for  God  is  our  defence,  and  the 
God  of  our  mercy  :  through  Christ  Jesus.    To  whom,  &c. 

Finis. 

Licensed,  July  15,  1689. 

The  Articles  presented  to  the  churchwardens  and  sworn  men  of 
the  diocese  of  Chichester  at  the  bishop's  primary  visitation  in  1690, 
naturally  called  for  insertion.  Those  issued  at  his  subsequent  inqui- 
sitions of  the  see  of  Ely  in  1692,  1695,  and  1698,  though  separately 
printed,  are  so  nearly  identical  with  the  first,  and  with  each  other,  a 
few  clauses  only  presentinjj  points  of  verbal  difference,  that  to  reprint 
the  whole  would  be  obviously  a  matter  of  supererogation. 

The  bishop's  two  letters  to  his  clergy  of  each  diocese,  in  lieu  of  a 
more  formal  charge,  and  the  liturgical  Form  drawn  up  by  him  for 
the  consecration  of  the  chapel  of  St.  Catherine's  hall,  Cambridge,  on 
Sept.  I,  I  704,  complete  the  series  of  his  writings  in  prose. 


Poems  upon  Divine  and  Moral  subjects. 

No  productions  of  a  poetical  or  metrical  character  were  given  to 
the  public  from  the  author's  pen  during  his  lifetime.  Though  well 
known,  in  his  more  private  circle,  to  possess  the  same  talent  as  his 
brother  for  composition  in  verse,  especially  on  themes  of  religion,  he 
seems  to  have  shrunk  from  submitting  his  occasional  effusions  of  that 
kind  to  the  judgment  of  the  world  at  large.  It  was  not  till  twelve 
years  after  his  decease,  that  any  portion  of  them  appeared  in  print. 
His  widow  and  grandson  being  then  alive,  it  was  in  all  probability 


cxxvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


by  their  sanction  that  they  were  then  suffered  to  come  forth.  In 
the  year  1719,  a  volume  appeared  under  the  title  of"  Poems  upon 
divine  and  moral  subjects,  originals  and  translations,  by  Symon 
Patrick,  late  lord  bishop  of  Ely,  and  other  eminent  hands." 

The  pieces  to  which  Patrick's  name  is  attached  have  been  ex- 
tracted from  that  collection,  added  to  which  are  translations  of  the 
fifteenth,  twenty-eighth,  and  thirtieth  Psalms,  and  of  the  Te  Deura, 
now  printed  for  the  first  time,  from  the  originals,  still  extant  among 
the  author's  papers,  in  his  own  handwriting. 

With  one  exception,  that  of  the  ode  or  prayer,  "  On  a  prospect  of 
the  university  from  the  top  of  an  hill  ,"  these  composures  are 
limited  to  versions  from  difi'erent  sources,  principally  the  Latin 
hymns  of  Ambrose  and  Prudentius.  As  translations  they  are  not 
only  faithful  to  the  letter,  but  possess  the  far  higher  merit  of  reflect- 
ing the  genuine  spirit  and  life  of  their  originals.  They  will  be  seen 
to  have  caught  much  of  the  devotional  warmth  and  poetic  temper,  as 
well  as  the  metrical  harmony  of  those  great  Christian  lyrists  of  the 
early  church,  and  to  charm  the  heart  by  the  purity,  depth,  and  ten- 
derness of  their  religious  tone,  no  less  than  the  ear  by  tlie  musical 
rythm  of  their  periods.  The  extreme  rarity  of  the  volume  of  which 
tiiey  form  part  has  been  doubtless  the  means  of  these  pieces  having 
hitherto  held  a  less  prominent  place  among  the  poetic  literature  of 
their  age  than  their  intrinsic  merit  entitled  them  to  take.  There 
was  not  perhaps  much  either  in  the  external  characteristics  or  the 
general  mental  tone  of  that  age,  to  foster  or  inspire  a  taste  for  the 
higher  branches  of  poetic  culture  :  nor  is  an  era  crowned  by  the 
laureateship  of  Nahum  Tate  calculated  to  suggest  any  very  exalted 
standard  of  its  critical  intuitions.  Yet  in  these  scanty  and  insulated 
fragments  we  may  discern  traces  of  powers,  which  might  have  won 
for  their  possessor  not  only  an  additional  title  to  the  respect  and 
love  of  his  generation,  but  a  permanent  name  in  the  literature  of 
Christian  minstrelsy.  If  among  these  simple  pieces  an  occasional 
line  or  phrase  is  liable  to  be  marked  as  bald,  frigid,  or  inelegant, 
bespeaking  the  absence  of  the  writer's  correcting  and  discriminating 
hand,  it  must  be  remembered  under  what  circumstances  of  disad- 
vantage they  now  appear.  Traits  of  true  poetic  feeling,  and  deep 
penetration  with  the  Spirit  of  God,  will  engage  the  candid  reader  to 
a  sympathy  with  their  modest  beauties,  through  which  even  more 
serious  and  fatal  blemishes  might  well  seem  venial  and  light. 
'  Vol.  ix.  p.  394. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxxvu 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

This  graphic  and  deeply  interesting  memoir  was  drawn  up  by  the 
author  in  his  dedining  years,  aided  by  the  diary  which  he  continued 
to  keep  with  the  utmost  punctuality  from  an  early  period  of  his  life 
to  the  very  day  of  his  decease.  The  original  manuscript  appears  to 
have  been  entrusted  by  his  family,  at  a  considerable  interval  after 
the  bishop's  death,  to  the  care  of  Samuel  Knight,  archdeacon  of 
Berks,  who  had  himself  undertaken  to  compile  a  biography  of  Pa- 
trick. So  fully  did  it  coinprise  all  the  ascertainable  particulars  of 
the  writer's  history,  that  Knight  was  content  to  do  little  more  than 
transcribe  its  very  language,  merely  substituting  the  third  person  for 
the  first,  and  appending  at  the  close  a  brief  portraiture  of  the  la- 
mented prelate's  character,  derived  in  part  from  personal  recollec- 
tions of  his  own,  in  part  from  the  testimony  of  other  informants. 
Fc5r  some  unknown  reason  the  work  was  never  committed  to  the 
press  during  the  archdeacon's  lifetime.  On  his  death,  Dec.  lo,  1746, 
at  the  age  of  seventy-two,  it  passed,  together  with  Patrick's  own 
manuscript  life  and  other  miscellaneous  papers,  into  the  hands  of  his 
son  Samuel,  rector  of  Milton  near  Cambridge,  in  the  custody  of 
whose  descendants  the  bulk  of  the  collection  has  remained  down  to 
the  present  day. 

The  existence  of  a  biographical  sketch  of  Patrick  by  his  own  hand 
continued  to  be  matter  of  notoriety  in  ecclesiastical  and  literary  cir- 
cles, and  a  desire  was  expressed  from  time  to  time  in  many  quarters 
for  its  publication.  Whiston,  among  others,  was  favoured  with  a 
perusal  of  it,  and  gave  in  his  Memoirs  the  following  testimony  to 
his  impression  of  its  value. 

"It  might  be  about  the  year  1734  also  that  Dr.  Knight,  late 
archdeacon  of  Berkshire,  lent  me  bishop  Patrick's  Account  of  his 
own  life,  written  with  his  own  hand,  which  I  very  well  know ;  and 
ending  with  his  birthday,  when  he  was  eighty  years  old.  Which 
birthday  the  bishop  had  long  kept  after  a  most  religious  manner. 
Why  this  Life  is  not  hitherto  published  I  do  not  know.  He  was  in 
the  old  war  time  a  great  royalist,  and  therefore  under  no  temptation 
to  deny,  as  he  does  here,  that  king  Charles  I.  was  the  original  au- 
thor of  the  ft(ca>i/  ^aaiXiKT],  had  he  not  been  fully  satisfied  that  it  was 
not  of  his  own  writing ;  tho'  I  take  it  to  be  undeniable  that  the  king 
highly  approved,  and  frequently  corrected  the  copy  with  his  own 


CXXVIU 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


hand,  till  it  truly  express'd  the  sense  of  his  own  mind,  and  so  was 
his  true  portraiture,  as  the  title  signifies  it  to  be.  Another  thing  I 
remember  there  is  in  bishop  Patrick's  account  of  himself,  and  of  the 
great  events  that  happened  in  his  time,  viz.  '  that  just  before  the 
death  of  king  Charles  II.  there  was  over-bearing  evidence  coming 
out  of  the  truth  of  Oates's  plot,  and  then  the  king  died.'  What  in- 
ference the  bishop  made  from  this  coincidence,  does  not  appear  in 
this  M.S.  But  I  suppose  every  body  will  easily  supply  it  in  their 
own  mind.  I  read  this  M.S.  four  times  over;  so  I  can  be  positive 
of  the  truth  of  these  two  things. 

"  When  I  afterwards  gave  sir  Joseph  Jekyl  and  Mr.  Arthur  Onslow 
an  account  of  what  I  had  seen,  they  were  both  hearty  for  having 
the  copy  intirely  printed  in  puris  naturalibus,  which  I  told  Dr.  Knight. 
But  he  thought  himself  not  at  liberty  to  do  more  than  take  some 
extracts  out  of  it,  to  be  inserted  elsewhere,  as  he  saw  cause.  So  it 
is  not  yet  published^." 

Twenty  years  later  the  MS.  was  lent  to  the  Rev.  Philip  Morant, 
rector  of  St.  Mary's  Colchester,  the  compiler  of  the  concise  and  ge- 
nerally accurate  notice  of  Patrick  in  the  Biographia  Britannica. 
Morant's  letter  to  Dr.  Knight,  sohcitiug  materials,  and  dated  Jan.  1 1, 
1754,  forms  part  of  the  documents  still  preserved  in  the  Knight 
family. 

The  indefatigable  collector  William  Cole  speaks  of  having  been 
visited  by  Mr.  Knight,  rector  of  Milton  and  lord  of  the  manor,  and 
his  son,  on  the  19th  of  September,  1779,  and  entrusted  by  him  with 
the  same  manuscript,  together  with  the  collection  of  letters  addressed 
by  the  bishop  to  Lady  Gauden.  Cole  availed  himself  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  make  copious  extracts  from  both,  which  form  part  of  his 
documentary  collections  extant  in  the  British  Museum  ^. 

In  the  fifth  volume  of  his  Literary  Anecdotes,  published  in  1820, 
but  obviously  accumulated  during  a  long  period  of  years,  Nicholls 
repeats  that  a  document  of  the  kind  was  generally  understood  to  re- 
main in  the  custody  of  the  family  at  their  seat  at  Milton*. 

By  permission  of  the  late  Mrs.  Knight,  then  proprietess  of  Milton 
Hall,  the  Autobiography  was  at  length  given  to  the  public  in  a  small 
I  2mo  volume  in  the  year  1839,  under  the  editorial  care  of  the  Rev. 
John  Marriott,  of  Bradfield,  Berks,  and  his  brother,  the  late  Rev. 

a  Whiston's  Memoirs,  ii.  353.  b  Addit.  MSS.  5810.  fol.  280. 

c  Vol.  V.  p.  356.    Compare  his  Illustrations,  vol.  iv.  p.  327. 


EDITORS  PllEFACK 


CXXIX 


Charles  Marriott,  fellow  of  Oriel  college.  The  original  manuscript 
having,  as  part  of  the  Milton  property,  passed  into  the  hands  of  John 
Percy  Baumgartne,  Esq.,  grandson  of  the  last  named  Mr.  Knight, 
has  been  obligingly  entrusted  by  that  gentleman  to  the  present 
editor,  for  the  purpose  of  being  once  more  collated.  A  few  inac- 
curacies in  the  printed  copy  of  1839  have  been  rectified  by  means 
of  this  latest  revision. 

Simple  in  form,  and  in  tone  perfectly  unreserved  and  artless,  the 
good  bishop's  narrative  depicts  with  truthfulness  and  force  the  work- 
ings of  a  deeply  religious  mind,  cast  among  eventful  times  and 
troubled  scenes,  yet  maintaining  a  consistent  tenor  of  Christian  rec- 
titude, firm  principle,  and  fervent  charity.  Few  have  succeeded  in 
portraying  more  interestingly  the  inner  life  of  a  soul  whose  daily 
converse  was  with  the  things  of  God,  or  in  bequeathing  the  exem- 
plar of  a  ministerial  career  inspired  by  the  constant  presence  of  a 
divine  Master.  So  exact  and  full  is  it  in  registering  all  the  leading 
particulars  of  his  actions  and  experience,  as  to  leave  but  few  addi- 
tional circumstances  to  reward  the  diligence  of  later  inquirers.  Such 
scanty  illustrations  as  have  been  elicited  will  be  found  appended  in 
the  form  of  notes  to  the  original  text ;  the  only  way  in  which  it  was 
thought  feasible  to  incorporate  them,  without  interfering  with  the 
cour.se  of  the  bishop's  personal  narration.  Certain  points  alone  have 
been  reserved  for  separate  consideration  in  this  place,  as  necessitating 
a  more  minute  and  ample  treatment  than  was  compatible  with  the 
limits  of  a  foot-note.  They  have  reference  to  the  three  follo\\ing 
heads  of  inquiry  : 

I.  The  earlier  discoverable  traces  of  Patrick's  family  history. 

II.  His  personal  characteristics,  as  drawn  by  Knight  and  others 
from  living  recollection. 

III.  Records  of  his  ofi'spring  and  descendants  down  to  the  pre- 
sent day. 

Patrick  does  not  appear  to  have  carried  his  own  knowledge  of  his 
ancestry  to  a  further  point  than  the  second  generation.  His  grand- 
father, Symon  Patrick,  was,  he  informs  us,  "  a  gentleman  of  good 
family,  who  had  an  estate  of  between  four  and  five  hundred  pounds 
a  year."  He  was  also,  as  the  bishop  is  careful  to  mention  with 
affection  and  pride,  "  a  person  of  religion  and  learning,  as  appears 
by  the  books  which  he  wrote  or  rather  translated  for  the  benefit  of 

i 


cxxx 


p:ditor's  preface. 


mankind.  For  having  travelled  in  his  younger  days,  he  translated 
two  books  in  the  beginning  of  the  last  century  out  of  the  French 
tongue  (of  which  he  was  a  perfect  master)  into  our  English  language. 
The  first  was  a  large  quarto,  being  the  history  of  the  church  :  the 
other  a  folio,  being  an  excellent  discourse  against  Machiavel  and  his 
pernicious  principles,  printed  1602  by  Felix  Kingston 

The  second  of  these  works  at  least  bears  signs  of  having  been 
written  long  anterior  to  the  date  of  ])ublication,  tlie  preface  being 
dated  "Kalends  Augusti"  (Aug.  15)  1 577.  It  is  dedicated  to  Francis 
Hastings,  nephew  to  the  earl  of  Huntingdon,  and  Edward  Bacon, 
the  elder  brother  of  the  great  chancellor ;  who  had  to  all  appearance 
been  the  writer's  companions  in  travel,  or  possibly  been  under  his 
tutelage  in  foreign  parts.  The  period  coincides'with  that  of  Francis 
Bacon's  residence  in  Paris,  under  the  care  of  Sir  Amyas  Paulett,  the 
English  ambassador,  and  it  is  highly  probable  that  Simon  Patrick 
thus  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  the  same  influential  society.  It  is  not 
a  little  puzzling  that  the  writer  of  this  preface  speaks  of  himself  as 
up  to  this  time  not  having  yet  visited  England.  He  deplores  the 
sad  and  persecuted  state  of  religion  in  France,  in  the  language  of 
one  born  or  naturalized  in  that  country.  Yet  the  preface,  though  it 
bears  no  name,  appears  beyond  a  doubt  to  have  been  written  by  the 
translator  himself,  since  it  neither  forms  part  of  the  original  French 
treatise,  nor  bears,  in  point  of  style,  the  slightest  trace  of  having 
passed  through  a  foreign  medium  This  would  seem  to  justify  the 
inference  that  Patrick  was  actually  born  on  the  continent,  and  that, 
if  of  genuine  English  extraction,  his  parents  may  have  settled  in 
France,  and  engaged  in  commercial  pursuits,  pos.sibly  having  taken 
refuge  there  from  the  storms  of  persecution  at  the  opening  of  Mary's 
reign.  One  or  two  expressions  almost  warrant  the  surmise,  that  he 
or  his  familv  had  sought  an  asylum  in  France  from  the  fanatical  op- 
pressions of  the  duke  of  Alva  in  the  Low  Countries.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  no  trace  has  been  discovered  of  the  Patricks  in  Lincolnshire 
anterior  to  the  period  of  the  elder  Symon's  retirement  from  abroad, 
after  which  date  both  he  and  his  brother  Richard  are  found  occupy- 

*  Vol.  ix.  p.  408. 

^  Since  writing  the  note  in  which  reference  was  made  to  this  work, 
(vol.  ix.  p.  408,)  the  editor  has  met  with  a  copy  of  the  first  edition  of  the 
French  original  in  the  library  of  the  British  Museum,  8vo.  Par.  f576,  dedi- 
cated to  the  Due  d'Alen^on 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxxxi 


ing  extensive  landed  estates  at  Caistor.  Unfortunately  the  registers 
of  that  parish  do  not  extend  to  an  earlier  date  than  the  year  1584. 
No  mention  of  the  family  has  been  found  in  the  heralds'  visitations 
of  the  county,  the  records  of  which,  in  the  years  1562  and  1569, 
have  been  consulted  in  the  British  Museum,  and  the  library  of 
Queen's  college,  Oxford.  Such  an  omission  seems  hardly  compatible 
with  the  idea  of  their  having  been  settled  there  at  an  earlier  period, 
especially  as  the  title  to  gentility  is  put  forth  both  in  the  title  to 
Symon  Patrick's  work,  and  in  his  grandson's  narrative. 

In  the  course  of  researches  among  the  documents  in  the  public 
Record  office  at  Carlton  Ride,  the  editor  has  ascertained  from  the 
vellum  rolls  containing  returns  of  subsidies  paid  into  the  royal  ex- 
chequer, that  on  the  occasion  of  the  third  subsidy,  made  39  Eliz. 
(1597),  "  Simon  Patricke  of  Caistor  was  assessed  in  goods  6  £., 
pd.  16  s:  his  brother  Richard  in  goods  ^£.,  pd.  10.  6."  From  the 
omission  of  their  names  in  connection  with  the  earlier  subsidies,  it 
may  be  surmised  that  their  settlement  was  then  recent.  The  re- 
turns of  Inqnisitiones  post  mortem,  in  the  Record  office.  Fetter  Lane, 
yield  no  information  respecting  Simon  Patrick ;  but  an  inquisition  is 
preserved  of  the  effects  of  his  brother  Richai-d,  held  Oct.  3,13  Jac.  I. 
(1614),  his  decease  having  taken  place  June  i  2  in  the  previous  year. 
A  few  particulars  are  thence  obtainable  respecting  his  children  and 
connections,  which  are  of  use  in  checking  the  inferences  to  be  de- 
rived from  other  sources  of  information. 

The  i-egisters  of  the  parish  of  Caistor  have  supplied  many  addi- 
tional particulars.  Out  of  the  large  number  of  fifteen  children, 
which  the  bishop's  narrative  has  assigned  his  grandfather,  the  bap- 
tisms of  eleven  are  there  placed  on  record,  as  may  be  seen  by  refer- 
ence to  the  accompanying  pedigree.^  The  register  of  burials  con- 
tains the  names  of  his  first  two  wives  :  "  Marye,  the  wife  of  Symon 
Pattrick,  4*11  Dec.  1587,"  and  "  Dorothea,  wife  of  Symon  Pattrick, 
Sept.  20,  1 60 1."  That  of  the  third,  who  survived  him,  does  not 
appear.  The  interments  of  his  third  son,  William,  April  23,  1590, 
his  eldest  daughter,  Bridget,  Feb.  22,  1604,  his  second  son,  Vincent, 
"gent.,"  Jan.  31,  164  J,  and  his  daughter,  Frances,  April  2,  1622, 
are  also  included. 

His  brother  Richard  was  blessed  with  scarcely  less  numerous  a 
progeny,  the  christenings  and  funerals  of  four  sons  and  three  daugh- 
ters being  registered,  besides  three  daughters  buried  as  "  aborts." 

i  2 


cxxxii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


The  will  of  the  elder  Symon  Patrick,  dated  Sept.  12,  161 3,  extant 
in  the  prerogative  court  of  the  province  of  Canterbury,  is  the  next 
source  of  information.  It  was  proved  May  28,  1614,  by  his  second 
son  Vincent,  sole  executor ;  his  decease  having  taken  place  some 
time  in  1613,  the  month  and  day  not  distinctly  specified. 

To  his  children  by  his  second  wife,  Edward,  John,  Henry,  Thomas, 
Jane,  and  Mary,  equal  legacies  are  bequeathed.  Their  mother  is 
alluded  to  under  her  Christian  name,  "  Dorothea."  The  name 
of  the  first  wife,  by  whom  his  eldest  sou  was  born,  does  not  occur ; 
but  to  "Simon's  wife  and  three  children"  he  leaves  five  pounds, 
For  his  daughters  Faith  and  Elizabeth  portions  are  provided,  and  to 
his  brother  Richard,  and  sister  Thompson,  smaller  mementos  are  de- 
signated. To  his  widow,  Susan,  whose  family  name  he  indicates  by 
mentioning  her  brother  and  trustee,  Thomas  Moyne,  bishop  of  Kil- 
more,  he  bequeathes  twenty-two  pounds  sterling  in  money,  and  sun- 
dry articles  of  household  use  and  ornament. 

In  the  library  of  the  royal  college  of  heralds  two  autograph  letters 
of  the  bishop  are  still  preserved,  which  help  at  once  to  throw  addi- 
tional light  upon  the  claims  of  the  Patrick  family  to  gentility,  and  to 
preclude  all  hope  of  rescuing  further  details  from  oblivion  through 
the  medium  of  family  tradition.  Towards  the  close  of  his  life,  being 
desirous  of  adding  to  his  ancestral  coat  of  arms  its  proper  blazonry 
of  colours,  he  made  application  to  the  royal  college  of  arms,  specify- 
ing all  the  particulars  which  he  had  been  able  to  collect  relating  to 
his  ancestry.  Some  difficulty  of  a  technical  kind  having  arisen,  the 
bishop  addressed  the  following  letter  to  sir  Henry  St.  George, 
Garter. 

"  For  sir  Henry  St.  George,  king  of  arms,  these, 

"  Mr.  Worthington  tells  me,  it  is  necessary  that  I  acquaint  you 
how  I  came  by  the  coate  of  arms  that  I  use.  I  can  only  say  that 
my  grandfather  wrote  a  book  printed  1601,  wherein  he  stiles  him- 
self '  Simon  Patrick,  gentleman  ;'  and  a  gold  seal  ring  I  had  from 
my  father,  with  this  coat  I  use  ingraven  on  it  (which  I  shewed  to 
Mr.  Day  and  Mr.  Worthington)  which  he  had  from  his  elder  bro- 
ther, who  told  him  it  was  his  father's,  and  it  was  ever  so  reputed 
since  I  remember.  My  grandfather  had  a  numerous  issue,  of  which 
my  father  was  a  sixth  son  :  who  was  young  when  my  grandfather 
died,  and  so  could  remember  little  but  what  his  brothers  told  him. 


EDITOirS  PREFACE. 


CXXXUl 


Whom  I  remember  to  have  been  men  of  worth,  and  well  esteemed 
in  the  country  upon  my  grandfather's  account.  But  they  are  all 
dead,  and  their  children  too,  long  ago.  So  I  can  learn  nothing  from 
any  body  now  alive.    But  I  assure  you  of  the  truth  of  what  I  write. 

I  am.  Sir, 

Yr  humble  servant, 

Ely  House,  Holbom, 

Feb.  23.  1702.  (1703.)  Ely." 
"  I  have  the  book  I  mentioned  to  shew,  called  the  History  of  the 
Church,  which  my  grandfather  translated  out  of  French." 

In  answer  to  a  further  inquiry  respecting  the  armorial  bearings 
hitherto  used  by  his  family,  he  next  wrote  to  the  earl  of  Carlisle, 
acting  earl  marshal  of  England  during  the  minority  of  the  duke  of 
Norfolk,  the  hereditary  official. 

"  My  Lord, 

"  I  have  a  coat  of  arms,  which  hath  been  used  by  me,  and  by  my 
ancestors,  in  seals  for  above  an  hundred  years  (how  much  longer  I 
am  not  able  now  to  make  out)  as  I  have  satisfied  sir  Henry  St.  George. 
But  having  occasion  lately  to  blazon  them,  according  as  my  father 
did  before  me,  sir  Henry  tells  me  those  colours  are  not  to  be  allowed. 
And  therefore  advises  me  to  address  myself  to  your  lordship  for  a 
warrant  to  him  to  assign  me  colours :  which  he  is  willing  and  ready 
to  do,  as  I  am  to  pay  the  fees  due  upon  that  account.  For  I  would 
leave  no  dispute  to  my  son  about  such  matters.  I  humbly  desire 
your  lordship  to  send  such  a  warrant  to  sir  Henry. 

I  am,  with  great  respect. 
My  Lord, 

Yr  most  humble  servant, 

Ely  House  "in  Holbom,  London, 

March  30.  1703.  ELiENS.f" 

'  The  earl's  mandate,  according  the  license  required,  is  registered  in  the 
Heralds'  college,  together  with  the  letters  aforesaid  ;  for  leave  to  transcribe 
which,  the  editor  has  been  indebted  to  the  ready  courtesy  of  Sir  C.  G.  Young* 
Garter  king  of  arms. 

Patrick's  arms,  as  depicted  on  his  monument  in  Ely  cathedral,  are  as  fol- 
lows, under  a  mitre, — 

"  Gules,  3  pallets  vaire,  argent  and  azure  ;  on  a  chief,  or,  a  lion  passant 
azure ;  though  in  the  print  of  the  bishop  by  White  the  lion  is  sable."—  Bentham's 
Ely,  Appendix,  p.  47. 


CXXXIV 


EDlTOirs  PREFACE. 


It  thus  appears  that  the  whole  of  his  grandfather's  numerous  off- 
spring, his  relatives  of  his  own  generation,  and  that  which  inter- 
vened, having  preceded  him  to  the  grave,  there  remained  no  living 
channel  by  which  he  could  push  his  inquiiies  into  the  past. 

Independent  sources  notwithstanding  exist,  by  means  of  which  a 
most  important  and  interesting  light  is  thrown  upon  the  history  of 
this  family.  In  a  note  on  Antony  a  Wood,  derived  by  Dr.  Bliss  from 
the  MS.  collections  of  bishop  Kennet'',  a  genealogical  table  is  given, 
which  is  corroborated  in  most  points  by  the  testamentary  paper  above 
cited,  and  may  without  difficulty  be  reconciled  with  it  in  all.  Symon 
Patrick  is  therein  assigned  three  wives ;  the  first  of  whom  is  de- 
signated as  "  sister  to  judge  Phesant',"  the  second  "  daughter  to 
Cartwright  of  Ossington."  The  third,  styled  "  daughter  to  Mohun," 
is  obviously  to  be  identified  with  Susan  Moyne,  whom  the  will  above 
quoted  designates  as  sister  to  Thomas  Moyne  or  Moygne,  bishop  of 
Kilmore  and  Ardaghl^. 

Kennet's  account  of  the  parentage  of  the  elder  Symon  Patrick's 
second  wife,  Dorothea,  connects  itself  directly  with  the  remarkable 
statement  put  forth  by  archdeacon  Knight,  as  to  the  fact  of  near  re- 
lationship between  bishop  Patrick  and  archbishop  Cranmer^.  Such 
was  Dr.  Knight's  assurance  of  that  fact,  that  he  could  even  make  it 
the  basis  of  pleasing  reflections  upon  the  traits  of  spiritual  resem- 
blance, which  bore  witness,  in  his  imagination,  to  the  ties  of  physical 
consanguinity  between  those  two  illustrious  sons  of  the  church. 
"  As  the  bishop,"  he  remarks,  "  was  by  his  mother's  side  a  de- 
scendant from  archbp.  Cranmer,  so  he  had  not  a  little  of  his  spirit." 
In  withholding  the  grounds  upon  which  he  rested  so  interesting  a 

^  Wood,  Fasti,  ii.  292. 

'  Peter  Phesant,  puisne  justice  of  the  Common  Pleas  under  the  Common- 
wealth.— Whitelocke,  178,  378,  409  :  Haydn,  227. 

^  Thomas  Moygne,  a  native  of  Lincoln,  was  admitted  a  scholar  at  Peter 
House,  Cambridge,  in  the  year  1579,  and  gained  a  fellowship  at  that  college, 
which  he  resigned  Dec.  i ,  1 606  ;  having  been  presented  to  the  vicarage  of 
Cherry  Hinton.  He  became  archdeacon  of  Meath,  Feb.  7,  160 J.  In  1608  he 
changed  this  preferment  with  Eider,  dean  of  St.  Patrick'.?,  Dublin.  He  suc- 
ceeded to  the  united  bishoprics  of  Kilmore  and  Ardagh,  by  patent,  dated 
Dec.  17,  161 2.  Until  1625  he  held  his  deanery  in  commendam.  He  died  in 
Dublin,  Jan.  I,  162^,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral. — Cotton,  Fasti 
Eccl.  Hibern.  iii.  128,  157.  W.ire,  Irish  bishops,  231.  Cole's  MSS.  in  Brit. 
Mus.  5845,  f.  317. 

'  See  vol.  ix.  p.  475. 


EDITOR'S  PHEFACE. 


cxxxv 


piece  of  information,  Knight  has  indeed  committed  an  offence  against 
hterary  exactness  and  fidehty  unpardonable  in  a  writer  of  biography. 
Such  however  is  his  general  character  for  carefulness  and  accuracy, 
as  evidenced  by  his  lives  of  Colet  and  Erasmus,  that  his  mere  asser- 
tion of  the  fact  is  entitled  to  much  weight.  It  may  have  seemed 
to  his  own  mind  too  familiar  and  notorious  to  call  for  corroborative 
proof.  True,  the  literal  terms  of  his  statement  call  for  some  qualifi- 
cation, in  order  to  harmonize  strictly  with  that  of  Kennet.  But  the 
mere  verbal  discrepancy  serves,  on  the  other  hand,  to  invest  them 
with  the  additional  stamp  of  independent  authority.  Construing 
Knight's  language  as  referring  to  relationship  through  the  female 
line  in  general,  instead  of  through  the  mother  individually,  we  are 
able  to  deduce  from  these  combined  testimonies,  almost  beyond  ques- 
tion, a  definite  link  between  the  families  of  Patrick  and  Cranmer. 

The  connection  between  the  family  of  Cartwright  and  that  of 
Cranmer  is  fully  and  satisfactorily  established  by  their  respective 
pedigrees,  as  delineated  in  Thoroton's  history  of  Notts,  and  arch- 
deacon Todd's  Life  of  Cranmer.  Ann,  daughter  to  Thomas  Cranmer, 
and  sister  to  the  reforming  primate,  married  Edmund  Cartwright  of 
Ossington.  The  date  of  their  union  has  not  been  ascertained ;  but 
she  is  known  to  have  been  living  at  the  period  of  her  brother's  mar- 
tyrdom™, having  survived  her  husband,  who  died  in  the  first  year  of 
Mary's  reign,  A.  D.  1553-4".  Their  second  son,  George,  likewise 
of  Ossington,  married  Dorothea,  daughter  and  heiress  of  William 
Molyneux,  Esq.  of  Havvton,  Kent,  and  widow  of  William  Dabridge- 
court,  of  Ossington.  The  issue  of  her  marriage  with  George  Cart- 
wright is  stated  by  Thoroton  to  have  consisted  of  four  son's,  William, 
George,  Edmund,  Robert,  and  one  daughter,  Elizabeth.  The  non- 
occurrence in  this  genealogical  list  of  any  daughter  named  Dorothea, 
may  seem  at  first  sight  to  militate  against  the  hypothesis  by  which  it 
is  sought  to  reconcile  the  statements  of  Kennet  and  Knight.  Consi- 
dering, however,  the  little  care  notoriously  bestowed  by  the  compilers 
of  tables  of  affinity,  towards  enumerating  and  tracing  every  scion  in 
the  female  line,  such  an  omission  cannot  be  thought  to  outweigh  the 
force  of  the  positive  assertions  of  both  writers.  The  name  of  Dorothea 
was  not  only  that  of  George  Cartwright's  wife,  but  one  of  repeated  oc- 
currence both  in  his  own  famllv  and  that  of  Cranmer,  as  an  inspection 


Todd's  Cranmer,  ii.  515 


"  Thoroton's  Notts,  i.  262,  iii.  173. 


cxxxvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


of  their  respective  pedigrees  will  show.  The  archbishop  had  himself 
both  a  sister  and  a  niece  of  that  name.  William,  eldest  son  and  heir 
of  George  Cartwright,  had  among  other  children  a  daughter  named 
Dorothea,  who  is  known  on  the  authority  of  Thoroton  and  that  of 
the  registers  of  Ossington,  to  have  become  the  wife  of  Thomas 
Browne,  and  to  have  been  buried  there,  May,  1610.  It  is  conse- 
quently neither  in  her  nor  in  her  generation  that  we  are  to  identify 
the  wife  of  Symon  Patrick.  The  latter  was  married  between  the 
end  of  1587  and  the  beginning  of  1590,  and  may  be  referred  ac- 
cordinglv  to  the  generation  of  George  Cartwright's  children.  Most 
unfortunately  the  registers  of  Ossington  go  back  no  further  than 
the  year  1594,  not  so  early  therefore  as  the  date  of  her  marriage. 
George's  eldest  son,  William,  succeeded  as  next  of  kin  to  his  uncle 
Hugh  Cartwright,  Feb.  6,  1575,  to  the  estates  of  the  latter  in  Kent 
and  Notts.  His  father's  death  had  cleai'ly  taken  place  some  time  be- 
fore, though  no  will  or  other  clue  to  its  precise  date  has  been  met  with. 
But  from  the  Inqinsitio  post  mortem  into  the  efl'ects  of  the  said  Hugh, 
May  6, 1572,  it  transpires  that  William  was  then  a  minor,  having  at- 
tained the  age  of  14  the  9  Nov.  preceding.  He  was  therefore  born 
in  1557.  The  register  of  Ossington  records  his  death,  Dec.  3  1 , 1602, 
the  same  year  as  that  of  Symon  Patrick's  second  wife. 

Those  dates  are  in  exact  accordance  with  the  presumption  to 
which  the  words  of  Knight  and  Kennet  point.  It  is  only  requisite 
to  assume  that  a  daughter,  Dorothea,  was  born  to  George  Cartwright 
between  the  years  1557  and  1572  ;  when  the  affiliation  of  Dorothea 
Patrick,  and  by  natural  consequence  of  her  grandson  and  his  de- 
scendants,'into  the  line  of  the  Cranmers  will  be  complete.  Bishop  Pa- 
trick's grandmother  was  then  grand-niece  to  the  great  archbishop. 

Symon  Patrick's  eldest  son  and  heir  by  his  first  marriage,  baptized 
by  his  father's  name  at  Caistor,  Oct.  28,  1J85,  has  been  ascertained 
from  the  college  books  and  university  register  to  have  matriculated 
as  a  pensioner  at  the  age  of  seventeen  at  Peter  house,  Cambridge, 
Dec.  IT,  1602.  He  subsequently  followed  the  profession  of  the  bar 
at  Lincoln's  Inn,  married,  and  had  issue  Vincent,  Edward,  John, 
Francis,  and  Elizabeth o.  Not  one  of  these  numerous  scions  of  the 
family  was  living,  if  the  bishop's  letter  is  to  be  construed  as  strictly 
accurate,  at  the  opening  of  the  following  century. 


"  Kennet,  quoted  by  Bliss,  as  above. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxxxvii 


Passing  to  the  direct  line  of  our  subject,  we  find  Henry,  the  sixth 
son,  to  have  been  baptized  at  Caistor  on  the  5th  of  September,  1 596. 
Having  been,  like  his  brothers,  educated  at  home  under  the  care  of 
a  resident  schoolmaster,  he  was  first  apprenticed  and  afterwards 
established  in  business  at  Gainsborough  as  a  '  mercer.'  This  term 
must  not  be  construed  in  the  restricted  sense  in  which  it  is  now  ap- 
plied to  a  single  branch  of  commerce.  It  then  embraced  the  wider 
and  more  honourable  calling  of  a  general  merchant.  Nor  had  the 
riverain  ports  of  the  eastern  coast  of  England  as  yet  parted  with 
that  early  importance  as  emporia  of  foreign  trade,  which  has  since 
been  lost  to  them  through  the  rising  competition  of  rivals,  both  to 
the  south  and  north.  The  mei'chant's  enterprise  seems  to  have 
brought  him  much  prosperity,  until  the  civil  war  entailed  serious 
disasters  and  reverses.  He  was  remarked  among  his  neighbours 
for  scrupulous  attention  to  the  duties  of  religion  both  at  church  and 
in  the  family  circle  P.  As  a  mark  of  the  times,  his  son's  narrative 
records  that  from  his  habitual  practice  in  attending  a  sermon  on 
Sunday  afternoons,  (an  extra  ordinance  which  the  church  omitted  to 
provide,  and  for  which,  it  must  be  feared,  he  had  to  frequent  some 
neighbouring  conventicle,)  he  obtained  the  nickname  of  a  Puritan  ;  a 
noticeable  but  saddening  trait  of  the  religious  habits  of  his  contem- 
poraries. His  attachment  to  the  church  was,  however,  firm  and  un- 
interrupted throughout ;  and  he  lost  no  opportunity  of  profiting  by 
the  ministrations  of  her  ritual  while  they  were  to  be  had. 

The  marriage  of  Henry  Patrick  introduces  a  question  of  some 
delicacy  and  difficulty.  His  wife  Mary  Naylor  was,  as  their  son 
himself  informs  us,  "  the  daughter  of  an  holy  minister  in  Notting- 
hamshire." From  the  use  of  an  expression  so  studiously  vague  and 
indirect,  is  it  to  be  inferred  that  the  "  minister"  was  a  noncon- 
formist ?  The  balance  of  probability  seems  at  least  to  incline  towards 
that  view.  Archdeacon  Knight,  it  is  true,  in  incorporating  this  pas- 
sage from  the  bishop's  narrative  into  his  own,  speaks  of  Naylor  as  a 
"  beneficed  clergyman  in  Notts."  But  this  specific  addition  to  the 
original  phrase  may  have  been  merely  inferential  on  his  part.  A 
more  decided  opinion  may  be  based  upon  an  official  search  made 
for  this  express  purpose  into  the  episcopal  register  of  the  diocese 
of  York,  of  which  that  county  then  formed  a  part.    The  only  names 


P  See  vol.  ix.  p.  410. 


CXXXVIU 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


of  clergymen  of  the  name  of  Naylor  mentioned  therein  between  the 
years  1580  and  1640,  embracing  a  sufficiently  wide  interval  for  the 
present  object,  are  those  of  George  Naylor,  B.  A.  of  Corpus  Christi 
College,  licensed  to  the  curacy  of  Clixby,  and  subsequently  ordained 
priest,  20  March,  1624,  and  that  of  Thomas  Naylor,  B.  A.,  admitted 
to  the  vicarage  of  Arnold,  March  27,  1623.  Neither  of  these  can 
be  in  any  way  identified  with  the  "  minister"  of  our  inquiry.  A  son 
of  the  latter,  brother  to  Patrick's  mother,  simply  described  in  the 
Autobiography  as  "a  grave  divine^"  was  living  in  the  year  1662, 
and  his  judgment  frequently  consulted  by  Patrick  about  his  studies 
in  divinity q.  But  uo  further  clue  to  the  history  of  that  family  is 
there  afforded.  In  the  absence  of  more  exact  data,  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed that  the  father  of  Mary  Naylor,  had  he  ever  held  a  benefice 
in  the  church,  could  not  have  been  in  possession  of  it  earlier 
than  1580.  He  is  proved  not  to  have  been  presented  between  that 
date  and  the  marriage  of  Patrick's  parents.  The  "  minister"  of  the 
latter  period  cannot  therefore,  it  is  clear,  have  been  of  the  order  of 
the  established  clergy. 

An  additional  motive  for  this  research  lay  in  the  desire  to  test 
Knight's  statement  above  referred  to,  concerning  the  descent  of 
Patrick  from  Cranmer  "  by  his  mother's  side."  Every  channel  which 
opened  a  prospect  of  substantiating  that  fact  has  been  patiently  and 
perseveringlv  followed  up,  before  finally  adopting  the  more  probable 
hypothesis  which  has  been  deduced  above.  Advertisements  have 
been  circulated  in  the  public  journals  for  the  certificate  of  marriage 
between  Henry  Patrick' and  Mary  Naylor.  This  might  afford,  it  was 
hoped,  at  all  events  an  important  clue  in  the  Christian  name  of  her 
father,  which  has  not  as  yet  been  ascertained.  Inquiries  have  been 
addressed  with  the  same  object  by  circular  letter  to  the  incumbents 
of  all  parishes  in  Nottinghamshire,  in  which  the  parochial  registers 
are  known  to  be  extant  anterior  to  the  year  1640''  This  appeal, 
though  very  generally  and  courteously  responded  to,  has  failed  to 
elicit  the  information  desired.  The  diocesan  register,  as  aforesaid, 
had  been  previously  consulted  in  vain. 

1  Vol.  ix.  437. 

f  It  may  be  worth  mentioning  that  the  returns  of  Parish  Registers  extant 
in  the  year  1831,  made  by  order  of  the  house  of  commons,  are  preserved  among 
the  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum. — Add.  MSS.  9355-9360. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


CXXXIX 


On  the  archbishop's  own  side  the  editor's  inquiries  have  been  pro- 
ductive of  no  better  results.  The  successive  biographers  of  Cranmer, 
and  editors  of  his  remains,  have  effected  Uttle  towards  supplying  any 
authentic  list  of  the  great  primate's  personal  issue.  The  table  com- 
piled by  Mr.  Todd  from  other  sources  besides  those  of  Strype,  makes 
mention  of  his  first  wife  Joan,  who  died  within  a  year  in  birth  of  her 
first  child,  the  infant  perishing  with  her,  and  of  his  marriage  sub- 
sequently contracted  with  Ann,  the  niece  of  Osiauder,  in  i53'2,  by 
whom  he  had  three  children,  Thomas,  Ann,  and  Margaret.  His 
family  having  been  declared  illegitimate  on  his  attainder  and  sentence 
in  J 556,  were  restored  in  blood  by  a  special  act  of  the  legislature, 
5  Eliz.  (Commons'  Journals,  Mar.  5  and  9,  1562-3,  Chancery  Roll, 
II.  45,  5  Eliz.s).  Thomas  and  Margaret  being  alone  mentioned  therein 
by  name,  the  inference  may  be  drawn  that  the  second  daughter,  Ann, 
had  deceased  during  the  interval.  From  this  point  the  published  ac- 
counts of  Cranmer's  history  yield  no  further  information.  A  docu- 
ment at  Herald's  college  declares  the  pedigree  finally  closed,  append- 
ing to  all  three  children  the  letters  "  d.  s.p." 

These  statements  are  however  beyond  doubt  defective  and  incom- 
plete. It  is  certain  that  Cranmer  has  progeny,  in  one  direction  at 
least,  still  traceable  in  the  female  line.  The  family  of  Simpson,  of 
Mitcham,  among  others,  are  entitled  to  trace  their  descent  from  the 
archbishop,  and  in  virtue  of  this  ancestry  some  have  assumed  the 
name  and  arms  of  Cranmer.  Through  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Richard 
Simpson,  formerly  of  Oriel  college,  Oxford,  and  vicar  of  Mitcham, 
the  present  editor  has  been  permitted  to  inspect  a  table  of  kindred 
by  means  of  which  that  claim  is  most  conclusively  authenticated.  By 
the  aid  of  documents  still  in  the  hands  of  the  family,  it  has  been 
made  clear  that  the  archbishop's  only  son  Thomas  left  also  a  single 
male  inheritor,  who,  dying  without  male  issue,  is  represented  down 
to  the  present  day  in  the  female  line  by  more  than  one  branch  of 
his  lineage.  No  opening,  however,  is  afforded  by  this  additional 
documentary  evidence  for  engrafting  upon  the  stem  of  Cranmer  any 
scion  of  the  name  of  Naylor,  and  thereby  the  line  of  Patrick.  Such 
a  hypothesis  must  certainly  be  abandoned  in  favour  of  the  one  pre- 
viously suggested.  Of  the  proofs  submitted  in  support  of  that  conclu- 


»  Todd,  ii.  p.  515. 


cxl 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


sion  the  public  must  be  left  to  judge.  In  the  absence  of  more  posi- 
tive data,  the  editor  has  not  indeed  felt  himself  at  liberty  to  incor- 
porate those  links  of  kindred  in  the  table  of  Patrick's  authentic  ge- 
nealogy. But  he  cannot  withhold  his  assurance  of  the  fact.  Should 
the  present  confession  of  failure  incite  others  to  follow  up  the  thread 
of  inquiry,  and  terminate  in  a  more  satisfactory  manner  by  finally 
clearing  up  a  point  so  fraught  with  interest  both  to  the  churchman 
and  genealogist,  and  in  a  hardly  less  degree  to  the  general  body  of 
the  public,  his  personal  regret  at  leaving  the  investigation  incom- 
plete will  be  lost  in  pleasure  at  their  superior  success. 


Personal  characteristics  of  Bishop  Patrick,  as  drawn 
from  contemporary  observation. 

Leaving  to  the  bishop  himself  the  task  as  well  of  narrating  the 
outer  circumstances,  as  of  analysing  the  feelings  and  experience  of 
his  life,  there  remains  to  his  editor  the  duty  of  setting  forth,  so  far 
as  is  now  possible,  those  characteristics  which  belong  to  his  external 
portraiture,  and  which  those  alone  are  competent  to  bequeathe  who 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  contemporary  and  personal  knowledge  of 
their  subject. 

The  most  complete  and  authentic  picture  of  Patrick,  as  a  bishop 
and  a  man,  is  that  delineated  by  Dr.  Knight,  who  drew  largely  for 
his  materials  upon  the  stores  of  his  own  memory,  and  that  of  others 
similarly  qualified  to  speak.  Though  not  officially  attached  to  the 
see  of  Ely  till  after  the  bishop's  death,  having  been  nominated  to  a 
prebend  in  that  cathedral,  June  8,  1714,  by  Patrick's  successor 
Moore',  Knight  had  been  brought  within  the  bishop's  influence  in  his 
younger  years,  and  cherished  towards  him  the  reverential  regard  of 
a  Timothy  for  Paul  the  aged,  of  an  youthful  and  observant  disciple 
for  an  apostle  almost  prophetic  through  experience  and  grace. 

It  has  been  thought  preferable  to  subjoin  in  this  place  Knight's 
own  statement  (which  must  be  read  with  due  allowance,  as  not  having 
been  conducted  through  the  press  by  the  writer's  own  hand),  rather 

*  Le  Neve,  i.  361. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxli 


than  to  attempt  an  essay  of  a  composite  kind,  out  of  the  few  and 
fragmentary  notices  which  have  come  down  from  independent 
sources. 

"The  good  bishop's  character,"  Knight  continues  at  the  close  of 
his  hfe,  "  appears  throughout  the  whole  foregoing  narrative.  Yet 
give  me  leave  to  sum  it  up  very  briefly,  which  will  give  me  an 
opportunity  to  bring  in  some  little  notices  of  him,  which  have 
escaped  a  mention  in  the  proper  series  of  the  history,  by  reason  of 
the  abundant  matter  that  offered  itself  while  the  composure  was 
under  hand.  His  behaviour  through  the  whole  course  of  his  life, 
bating  human  infirmity  (to  which  the  very  best  of  men  are  subject), 
was  truly  exemplary  and  praiseworthy  ;  and  yet  I  have  been  so  im- 
partial as  not  to  pass  over  any  passages  that  occurred  which  may  in 
some  measure,  if  not  judged  candidly,  les.sen  with  some  persons  the 
generally  conceived  opinion  the  world  had  of  him  ;  being  not  acting 
the  part  of  a  panegyrist  but  an  historian. 

"  His  life  was  in  the  general  truly  exemplary  as  a  Christian,  a 
minister,  and  a  bishop.  He  had  a  constant  regard  to  answer  the 
benefits  he  received  from  a  strict  and  pious  education,  which  shone 
brightly  through  his  whole  conversation.  He  studied  to  transcribe 
in  this  life  all  the  imitable  perfections  of  God.  His  soul  was  always 
upon  the  wing  towards  heaven  :  his  devotions  were  sublime,  not  en- 
thusiastical :  his  heart  set  upon  God  and  religion  :  and  yet  engaged 
in  a  busy  scene  of  action,  he  walked  with  God.  Though  he  lived 
and  conversed  with  men,  everything  he  did  was  with  some  reference 
to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  mankind,  and  he  was  so  intent 
upon  these  things  that  it  gave  him  no  leisure  to  concern  himself 
much  in  matters  of  lesser  moment.  He  had  courage  enough  to 
deliver  himself  up  to  the  conduct  and  direction  of  Providence,  and 
he  found  the  fruit  of  it  by  being  freed  from  fhose  corroding  cares 
and  anxious  thoughts  which  sour  the  lives  of  the  generality  of  man- 
kind ;  and  had  thereby  a  happy  conscience  of  a  watchful  care  that 
hovered  over  him,  by  raising  up  instruments  and  ordering  accidents 
so  prosperously,  as  if  there  had  been  a  secret  design  of  heaven  by 
blessing  him  to  encourage  others  to  depend  upon  God,  and  deliver 
up  themselves  wholly  to  his  care  and  guidance. 

"  I  must  not  omit  to  say  something  of  his  charity  and  munifi- 
cence, which  was  very  eminent  and  exemplary,  in  everv  station  of  life 


cxlii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


he  passed  through,  but  more  especially  shone  most  brightly  in  his 
more  advanced  circumstances  ;  and  though  what  he  did  of  this  nature 
was  as  privately  as  he  possibly  could,  avoiding  all  ostentation  and 
praise  of  men,  yet  his  goodness  and  munificence  could  not  be  so 
concealed  as  not  to  be  taken  notice  of,  and  occasioned  him  to  be 
seldom  free  from  crowds  of  petitioners  from  every  quarter,  who  ad- 
dressed themselves  to  him  for  relief  in  one  kind  or  other.  But  as 
his  lot  was  cast  in  such  times  as  by  reason  of  persecution  and  op- 
pression made  England  a  sanctuary  for  its  suffering  neighbours  from 
France  and  Poland,  he  was  unwearied  in  finding  out  relief,  and 
moving  those  whom  he  knew  susceptive  of  good  impressions  to  join 
with  him  in  so  good  a  work  ;  and  perhaps  few  ever  met  with  better 
success  in  applications  of  this  sort.  He  never  failed  of  setting  a 
good  example,  and  his  charity  would  sometimes  exceed  the  bounds 
of  his  ability  ;  but  he  thereby  provoked  others  to  good  works,  and 
raised  an  emulation  which  was  very  advantageous  to  the  distressed 
parties.  Thus  by  a  distribution  of  twenty  pounds,  which  he  at  one 
time  gave  generously  towards  the  relief  of  the  Scotch  episcopal 
clergy,  in  the  year  169^,  ten  of  them  and  their  families  were  sup- 
ported under  the  deepest  poverty  and  distress,  till  a  way  of  more 
settled  maintenance  could  be  procured  for  them.  The  Irish  pro- 
testants,  who  came  over  in  great  numbers  soon  after  the  revolution, 
had  large  experience  of  his  care  and  concern  for  them.  They  had 
from  himself,  and  by  his  interest  with  the  best  and  the  greatest  of 
the  nation,  a  large  and  cheerful  beneficence  :  nor  were  the  refugees 
from  France,  who  came  hither  to  escape  the  fury  of  the  persecution 
raised  against  them,  forgot  by  him,  but  more  especially  their  minis- 
ters (of  whom  I  could  give  a  large  roll  of  names)  looked  upon  bishop 
Patrick  as  raised  up  by  providence  for  their  comfort  and  assistance. 
Those  more  especially  who  were  of  eminence  in  learning  and  men  of 
probity  he  took  into  a  strict  f/iendship  with  him  ;  amongst  otliers 
Dr.  Allix  was  most  favoured  by  him.  I  find  also  by  some  Latin 
epistles  of  J.  H.  Dalhusius,  inspector  of  the  churches  in  the  county 
of  Weeden  upon  the  Rhine,  &c.,  who  published  in  1692  a  book  called 
'  The  Salvation  of  Protestants  asserted,  and  defended  against  the  sen- 
tence of  the  Romish  church",' &c.,  as  also  Carmen  in  4™  Novembris^, 

u  4to  Lond.  1689. 

"  "  Carmen  proseucticon  Basiphili  ad  suos  Britannicos  concives  occasione  pri- 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxliii 


that  he  relied  much  on  our  bishop's  bounty.  For  being  persecuted  in 
his  own  country  he  fled  hither  with  his  family.  He  thankfully  owns 
his  son's  education  by  his  lordship's  bounty,  and  that  the  Queen  had, 
from  the  bishop's  application,  been  beneficial  to  him.  He  dedicates 
his  book  translated  into  English,  and  printed  1689  4to.,  "  to  the 
bishops  &c.  of  the  church  of  England,"  wherein  he  gives  them  to 
understand  that  their  kindness  to  one  who  had  suffered  on  the 
account  of  religion  would  be  acceptable  to  God  and  redound  to  their 
honour.  To  mention  one  more  (A.  C.)  who  was  in  the  year  1683 
converted  from  the  popish  religion  to  the  communion  of  the  church 
of  England  by  his  means,  I  find  many  years  after,  being  reduced,  to 
have  met  with  a  favourable  regard  from  him,  so  that  in  both  respects 
he  had  great  obligations  to  so  kind  a  friend.  Indeed  so  great  an 
esteem  had  persons  of  the  highest  rank  of  his  probity,  goodness,  and 
discretion,  that  he  was  a  sort  of  common  almoner  to  many  of  them. 
To  say  nothing  of  lady  Coventry  since  before  mentioned,  on  another 
occasion  I  find  a  receipt  under  the  bishop  of  London's  (Compton's) 
hand,  acknowledging  the  sum  of  threescore  pounds  paid  by  Dr.  Pa- 
trick, from  an  unknown  lady,  towards  the  rebuilding  of  the  church 
of  St.  PauFs,  bearing  date  Nov.  18, 1682.  The  duchess  of  Ormond, 
and  many  others  of  great  name  did  not  think  it  below  them  to  apply 
to  him  for  favours  to  some  of  their  friends  who  had  need  of  them. 
The  duchess  was  a  very  earnest  suitor  for  a  minister  well  preferred 
before  the  troubles  in  Ireland,  but  saving  nothing  but  his  life  escaped 
hither.  The  bishop,  who  was  easy  to  be  intreated,  took  care  of  him, 
to  both  the  lady's  and  his  own  satisfaction.  Besides,  the  bishop  was 
a  very  great  patron  and  encourager  of  learning,  and  learned  men, 
both  at  home  and  abroad,  and  never  was  better  pleased  than  when 
he  had  an  opportunity  of  exerting  himself  for  their  service.  An  in- 
stance we  have  in  the  kind  assistance  he  gave  to  Jacobus  Cappellus, 
the  son  and  nephew  of  two  great  men  of  that  name,  when  he  was 
publishing  their  commentaries  on  the  Old  Testament,  it  being  a  very 
chargeable  and  laborious  work,  part  of  which  was  never  before  pub- 
lished, whereby  he  had  hurt  his  circumstances,  and  run  in  debt. 
l3ishop  Patrick,  with  the  assistance  of  other  friends,  paid  their  re- 
spect to  the  name  he  bore,  and  made  him  easy.    I  find  him  acknow- 


die  nonarum  et  nonarum  Novembris,  quando  regis  Gulielmi  III.  genethlia,  et 
adventus  ejus  in  Angliam  atque  pulverariae  proditionis  memoria  celebrabantur 
anno  iGSg." — fol,  s.  1.  et  a. 


cxliv 


EDITOR'S  rUEFACE. 


ledging  this  in  a  Latin  epistle,  so  that  the  learned  world  are  obliged 
to  him  for  that  fair  edition  which  bears  the  title  of  Ludovici  et  Jacobi 
Cappelli  Commentarii,  nota:  criticcE,  et  ohservationes  in  Vetus  Testamen- 
tum.  Item  Ludovici  arcanum  punctuationis,  cum  ejusdem  vindiciis. 
Editionem  curavit  Jac.  Cappellus.  L.  F.  Amstelodami,  per  Blaew.  1689 
in  folio.  The  editor  gave  the  bishop  a  full  account  of  this  affair,  in 
what  he  styled  Jacobi  Cappelli  Declaratio  de  editione  operum  posthu- 
niorum  parentis  sui  patruique  in  MSS.  I  find  also  long  before  this, 
in  the  year  1670,  that  one  Joh.  Mezolaki,  an  Hungarian,  published 
Disputatio  textualis  ad  cap.  i.  Hoseee  v.  2.  et  de  Idolatria  pontificia, 
and  dedicated  it  to  Dr.  Patrick,  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  and  Dr.  Tillotson, 
styling  them  Dominis  meis  et  fautoribus  honorandis.  It  would  be 
endless  to  mention  the  acknowledgments  of  the  like  nature  which  he 
received  from  colleges  and  schools  at  home  upon  the  like  occasions, 
especially  the  respect  he  always  bore  to  his  own  college  of  Queen's, 
which  could  not  but  glory  in  first  forming  so  great  and  so  good  a 
man,  and  that  they  did  so  may  be  seen  in  a  letter  from  that  college 
to  himy.  He  was  also  a  generous  benefactor  to  the  college  at  Eton, 
when  applied  to  by  that  society  towards  the  repairing  and  beautifying 
their  chapel,  as  also  to  the  chapel  of  Katherine  hall  in  Cambridge, 
from  both  which  societies  he  had  proper  acknowledgments.  The 
palace  of  Ely,  which  he  found  in  great  disorder,  and  unfinished  as  to 
gardens,  fishponds,  stables,  &c.,  soon  after  his  coming  to  that  see 
he  brought  into  order,  repairing  what  was  decayed,  and  rebuilding 
what  was  wanting  ;  and  (what  we  who  are  members  of  the  church 
have  great  reason  to  be  grateful  to  his  memory  for)  he  gave  a  large 
collection  of  valuable  books  to  the  library  of  the  cathedral,  by  much 
the  best  part  of  it,  though  before  it  contained  the  whole  libraries  of 
dean  Mapletoft  and  Dr.  Ball,  one  of  the  prebendaries  of  that  church. 
He  also  gave  a  considerable  number  of  books  to  the  library  at  Peter- 
borough, where  he  had  been  dean  and  his  brother  prebendary. 

"On  the  19th  of  March,  1693,  he  had  a  sum  of  money,  no  less  than 
£500,  left  in  his  hands  by  a  worthy  gentleman  of  a  good  family 
(Mr.  Cholmondeley),  which  he  disposed  of  in  the  following  manner, 
very  much  to  his  reputation  and  honour,  since  he  was  always  devising 
liberal  things: — 

y  Mention  of  Patrick's  loyalty  to  his  college  is  made  in  the  life  of  Dr.  John 
Warren,  p.  xvi.  prefixed  to  his  Sermons,  8vo.  1739. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cxlv 


£ 

To  ye  corporation  of  Ministers  sons,        .        .        loo  o  o 

Redemption  of  two  captives,  .  .  .  80  o  o 
Charity-houses  for  ye  French  refugees,    .  5000 

St.  Thomas's  Hospital  for  ye  building  of  it,  50  o  o 
Catherine  Hall  Chapel  to  lay  its  foundation  z,  5000 

French  refugees  at  Canterbury,        .        .        20  o  o 

To  ye  five  prisons  for  relief  of  debtors  there  (to  be  put 

into  Mr.  Cox's  hands),      .        .        .        50  o  o 
L''.  Ronsell,  baron  of  Courtins,  who  had  been 

reduced  by  misfortunes,    .        .        .        25  o  o 

Mr  Devun,  six  children,          .        .        .        25  o  o 

Scotch  clergy,         .        .        ,        .        .        50  o  o 

X5OO  O  Qi* 


'  This  was  not  the  first  or  only  sum  contributed  by  the  bishop  in  aid  of  this 
object,  as  appears  from  the  following  receipt,  transmitted  among  his  papers  : — 

"  Dec.  Received  of  ye  Reverend  Dr.  Patrick,  dean  of  Peterborough,  ye  re- 
mainder of  ten  pounds  wch  lie  was  pleased  to  promise  towards  the  rebuilding 
of  St.  Cath.  Hall  in  Cam. — £4.    o.  o. 

John  Eachard." 

The  year  is  not  stated,  but  must  have  been  prior  to  1691,  the  date  of  Patrick's 
elevation  to  the  episcopal  bench.  The  chapel  was  not  completed  till  1 704,  and 
consecrated  by  him  Sept.  4,  in  that  year. 

*  Sundry  items  among  the  disbursements  entered  in  the  churchwarden's 
books  at  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden,  bear  concurrent  testimony  to  Patrick's 
charitable  conduct  towards  religious  exiles,  and  other  sufferers  of  the  foreign 
class. 

"June  16, 1668.   Given  to  a  poor  man  driven  out  of  Flanders,  recommended 

by  Dr.  Patrick,  £00.   oi.  00." 
"Aug.  25,  1669.    Given  to  a  poor  Grecian  by  order,  £00.  01.  00." 
"  Sept.  4.      Given    to   two    poor    men    that    came    out    of  Turkey 

slavei-y,  £00.  02.  00  " 
"  Nov.  2, 1673.  Given  to  a  Chaldean  at  Dr.  Patrick's  request,  £01.  00.  00." 
"  Dec.  8,  1683.     Given   a  Polonian   gent,    commended    by    ye  Dean, 

£00.  05.  00." 

"  July  22,  1684.  Given  to  four  poore  slaves  redeemed  out  of  captivitie  from 
Algier,  £00.  05.  00." 

An  additional  instance  may  be  quoted  of  the  use  which  he  made  of  funds 
entrusted  to  him  for  distribution,  in  the  assistance  rendered  by  him  to  Veaey, 
archbishop  of  Tu.am,  who  had  been  expelled  by  the  Roman  catholics  in  the  reign 
of  James  II,  and  subjected  to  great  distress. 

"  Given  by  Dr.  Patrick,  dean  of  Peterborough,  out  of  some  money  put  into 
his  hands  for  charitable  uses,  £20.  o.  o." — Mant's  History  of  the  Church  of 
Ireland,  ed.  j.  vol.  i.  p.  749. 

k 


cxlvi 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Thus  did  bishop  Patrick  leave  a  good  savour  behind  him  wherever 
he  came,  and  such  tokens  of  kindness  and  generosity  as  can  not 
easily  be  forgotten.  Nay,  so  great  a  compass  did  he  take  in  doing 
good,  and  being  serviceable  to  all  mankind  (if  possible),  that  I  find 
even  from  so  distant  a  place  as  Maryland  the  acknowledgments  of 
governor  Nicholson  for  the  service  our  bishop  had  done  in  that 
colony  by  his  influence,  reaching  thus  further  than  his  presence. 
His  might  well  be  called  a  good  old  age,  which  was  productive  of  so 
much  good  to  mankind  in  general.  I  find  amongst  his  papers  a 
thanksgiving  of  his  own  composing  upon  some  princelike  donations 
of  King  William  and  Queen  Mary,  in  which  it  seems  bishop  Patrick 
was  concerned.  What  they  were  is  not  mentioned.  I  have  thought 
it  however  worth  preserving  among  his  other  papers.  One  cannot 
wonder  that  they  highly  valued  bishop  Patrick,  and  that  Queen  Mary 
more  especially,  Whose  heart  was  set  upon  doing  good,  had  such  love 
and  respect  for  him,  since  she  found  in  him  such  a  spirit  of  wisdom 
and  counsel,  together  with  so  great  zeal  for  doing  good,  which 
moved  her  often  to  consult  him  in  those  great  and  good  projects  in 
which  she  spent  her  whole  time  ;  and  indeed  he  looked  upon  her 
removal  by  death  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  losses  this  nation  ever 
sustained.  The  most  earnest  prayer  which  he  composed  when  she  lay 
sick  of  the  small  pox  (of  which  she  died)  shews  the  mighty  value  he 
set  on  her. 

"  Another  excellent  disposition  of  mind  for  which  he  was  remark- 
able, was  his  candour  and  charity  to  those  who  differed  from  him, 
if  he  thought  men  but  sincere  and  honest.  He  could  make  great 
allowances  for  their  different  judgments  and  opinions  :  men's  educa- 
tion, capacities,  and  several  ways  of  thinking,  may  determine  them 
some  one  way  some  another  :  and  did  we  but  understand  one  an- 
other better,  we  should  often  find  that  the  differences  that  trouble 
the  world  are  more  in  words  than  things.  What  warm  contests 
have  there  been  in  the  world,  nay,  in  the  very  church,  in  all  ages 
about  nothing  or  next  to  it.  This  therefore  rendered  him  averse  to 
all  persecutions  for  conscience  sake  ;  such  usage  being  diametrically 
opposite  to  the  gospel  of  peace,  and  to  the  spirit  which  is  first  pure, 
then  peaceable  :  meekly  instructing  and  fair  treatment  is  a  more  ra- 
tional and  scriptural  way  to  gain  upon  men's  minds  than  force  and 

•  See  Dr.  Bray's  Memorial  of  the  state  of  Religion  on  the  continent  of 
North  America. 


EDITOR^S  PREFACE. 


cxlvii 


fury,  which  drives  men  further  from  us,  and  hardens  them  in  their 
way. 

"  Wherever  he  found  goodness  and  probity,  and  a  sense  of  God 
and  religion,  those  he  could  not  lightly  speak  evil  of,  though  they 
went  not  with  him,  and  were  of  another  sort  of  denomination  :  if 
vvhereunto  they  had  already  attained  they  minded  the  same  thing  he 
could  not  but  value  them  accordingly.  Hence  he  would  speak  favour- 
ably of  those  who  differed  from  us  in  their  notions  of  church  govern- 
ment, and  might  thereupon  separate  from  the  established  worship. 
If  he  could  not  persuade,  yet  he  thought  he  had  no  reason  to  quarrel 
and  be  angry  with  them.  So  likewise  when  at  the  revolution  many 
of  his  friends  scrupled  to  take  the  oaths  to  the  government  then 
established,  though  he  himself  was  fully  satisfied  in  his  own  con- 
science in  complying,  he  would  not  judge  them  for  refusing,  since  to 
his  own  Master  every  man  standeth  or  falleth.  For  no  man  can  be 
induced  to  do  or  act  against  his  conscience,  and  be  blameless.  But 
on  the  contrary,  his  indignation  rose  high  against  those  wretches 
who  could  find  in  their  hearts  to  swear  to  a  government,  and  act 
and  speak  the  most  opprobrious  things  against  it,  and  seek  to  ruin 
what  they  have  solemnly  sworn  to  maintain.  This  is  most  hateful 
and  odious  in  any  person,  but  doubly  criminal  in  a  clergyman,  who 
should,  if  any  other,  know  the  guilt  and  danger  of  perjury  :  besides 
the  reproach  and  stain  it  leaves  on  his  order,  and  the  scandal  it  gives 
to  those  without.  But  on  brothers  who  had  done  wiiat  they  could 
to  satisfy  themselves,  but  could  not  get  over  their  scruples,  he  would 
give  them  the  right  hand  of  fellowship,  and  esteem  them  as  good 
and  conscientious  men.  With  such  he  kept  up  a  friendship,  or  at 
least  was  resolved  it  should  not  be  his  fault  if  the  intimacy  was 
dropped  between  them.  No  doubt  Dr.Hickes  had  all  along  different 
notions  in  many  particulars,  but  yet  T  find  by  his  letters  there  was  a 
great  intimacy  between  them,  and  all  the  while  he  was  in  Scotland 
chaplain  to  duke  Lauderdale,  kept  up  a  strict  correspondence  with 
him.  How  long  it  was  cultivated  afterwards  I  know  not  ;  but  I 
cannot  but  mention  a  letter  to  Dr.  Patrick  after  he  was  advanced  to 
the  see  of  Chichester,  from  a  person  who  could  nnt  bring  himself  to 
take  the  oaths  (whose  name  I  am  at  a  loss  for,  it  being  torn  ofi  ), 
that  has  such  signatures  of  candour  and  goodness,  as  intitles  it  to  be 
preserved,  and  testifies  to  the  good  opinion  he  had  of  bishop  Patrick 
in  those  circumstances,  and  that  he  rejoiced  at  his  advancement  in 

k  2 


cxlviii 


EDITOR^S  PREFACE. 


the  church.  And  indeed  many  of  the  greatest  characters  of  a  primi- 
tive and  apostohcal  hishop  appeared  very  eminently  in  him,  which 
derived  an  honour  upon  the  venerable  order  he  was  of,  so  that  it 
caused  the  enemies  of  it  to  have  a  better  opinion  of  it  on  his  account. 
He  had  an  unaffected  gravity  in  his  deportment,  and  a  decent  sim- 
plicity in  his  dress  and  apparel.  In  all  religious  duties  there  was  a 
warmth  and  zeal  which  showed  that  he  was  in  earnest.  His  style 
was  clear  and  full,  and  his  preaching  without  affectation  and  dross, 
fitted  to  instruct  others,  not  to  set  off  himself ;  and  therefore  on 
such  subjects  as  were  most  proper  to  do  good  upon  his  audience, 
and  instil  right  apprehensions  of  the  great  duties  of  our  holy  religion. 
He  was  always  at  work  in  his  study,  when  the  affairs  of  his  sacred 
function  did  not  lead  him  out  of  it.  Otherwise  he  could  never  have 
despatched  the  numerous  volumes  he  obliged  the  world  with.  He 
had  amassed  a  great  stock  of  learning  of  all  sorts,  but  his  delight 
chiefly  was  in  the  law  of  his  God.  In  this  he  meditated  day  and 
night.  His  great  knowledge  in  the  Eastern  tongues  enabled  him  to 
make  great  discoveries  in  the  most  difficult  and  abstruse  passages  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  But  whenever  he  had  to  give  his  opinion,  it  is 
with  great  modesty  and  humble  deference  to  the  judgment  of  others. 
When  at  any  time  he  thought  himself  concerned  to  controvert  any 
point  with  any  of  different  sentiments,  he  made  it  evident  in  the  way 
that  he  took  that  it  was  not  victory  but  truth  that  he  sought  for  in 
it.  He  was  not  wedded  to  any  notions  but  he  was  ready  to  quit 
them  upon  first  and  convincing  evidence.  The  learned  Dr.  Alhx 
had  leave  to  animadvert  upon  his  Commentaries,  and  it  gave  him  no 
uneasiness  but  pleasure  when  any  mistakes  were  discovered,  which 
he  was  ready  to  own  with  great  thankfulness.  As  he  could  make 
great  allowance  for  the  mistakes  of  others,  so  he  was  less  favourable 
to  his  own.  He  had  an  admirable  way  of  managing  his  reproofs 
when  he  found  them  necessary  to  be  used.  There  was  so  much 
good  nature  mixed  with  them  that  they  seldom  failed  of  answering 
the  end  designed  by  them.  His  gravity  and  seriousness  gave  such 
a  weight  to  his  words,  that  no  person,  unless  quite  hardened,  but 
had  deep  impressions  from  them  not  easily  to  be  forgotten.  His 
clergy  he  always  treated  as  brethren,  and  those  he  found  remiss  in 
their  duty,  or  immoral  in  their  lives,  he  took  care  either  by  gentle 
monitions  first  to  let  them  know  that  he  was  obliged  for  his  own  and 
religion's  sake  to  insist  upon  a  reformation  from  them,  but  otherwise 


EDlTOR^S  PREFACE. 


cxlix 


he  must  make  use  of  that  wholesome  discipline  which  the  church 
had  entrusted  him  with,  in  order  to  prevent  any  scandal  that  might 
arise  from  their  impunity.  His  admirable  management  of  matters 
of  this  nature  has  been  already  set  forth  by  some  examples  in  the 
foregoing  narrative,  as  several  other  of  his  excellent  virtues,  so  that 
it  is  but  actum  agere  to  repeat  anything  further  of  them.  His  con- 
tempt of  the  world,  and  his  freedom  from  anything  of  ambition  in 
seeking  for  preferments  appears  from  instances  in  every  prefermen 
he  passed  through,  for  which  he  was  rather  sought  for  than  he  could 
find  in  his  heart  to  seek,  till  providence  opened  a  way  for  him.  His 
merit  raised  him  friends  who,  without  any  solicitation  of  his  own, 
paved  the  way  towards  his  advancement ;  which  gave  him  a  pleasant 
gust  of  all  his  acquisitions,  and  furnished  his  brethren  of  the  clergy 
an  excellent  lesson  of  a  dependence  upon  providence,  and  of  patient 
diligence  in  the  discharge  of  their  heavenly  calling. 

"  I  have  neither  room  nor  inclination  to  give  the  world  an  account 
of  the  many  great  persons  whom  his  merit  had  made  his  friends  and 
patrons ;  since  it  is  seen  in  the  preceding  account  that  a  succession 
of  crowned  heads  esteemed  him  highly  for  his  works'  sake,  and  had  a 
personal  knowledge  of  him,  always  looking  upon  him  with  a  favour- 
able eye.  Nor  need  I  say  anything  of  the  great  intimacy  between 
him  and  the  noble  Bedford  family,  with  the  first  duke  especially,  who 
laid  the  foundation  of  all  his  future  preferments,  by  bringing  him 
out  of  an  obscure  place  and  planting  him  so  advantageously  in 
the  eye  of  the  world;  but  shall  close  all  with  just  mentioning  the 
great  intimacy  and  correspondence  he  had  with  the  most  eminent 
men  for  learning  and  piety  throughout  the  nation,  as  appears  by  his 
letters  to  and  from  them  :  such  as  archbishop  Lamplugh,  bishop 
Ward,  bishop  Barlow,  bishop  Burnet,  bishop  Williams,  Dr.W.  King, 
archbishop  of  Dublin,  bishop  Wetenhall,&c.,  as  also  with  the  learned 
Dr.  Worthington,  Dr. Bernard,  Dr. Whitby,  Dr.Stradling,  and  others. 
It  might  not  be  improper  to  mention  the  chaplains  he  made  choice 
of  for  his  service,  in  which  he  always  had  great  regard  to  his  beloved 
college  of  Queen's,  which  furnished  him  with  all  under  this  character 
that  ever  he  had  for  the  eighteen  years  he  was  bishop  of  Chichester 
and  Ely,  excepting  Dr.  Nicholas  Gouge,  who  was  of  Katherine  hall. 
The  others.  Dr.  James  Smith,  Dr.  Charles  Ashton,  master  of  Jesus 
college  and  prebendary  of  Ely,  Dr.  Ralph  Perkins,  prebendary  of 
Ely,  and  Mr.  John  Martyn,  rector  of  Willingham,  (except  archdea- 
con Masden)  were  all  fellows  of  Queen's  college." 


cl 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Mention  is  made  by  Knight  of  a  MS.  tract  in  his  possession, 
written  by  Patrick  in  the  year  1650  against  Richard  Resbary,  an  ex- 
treme holder  of  supralapsarian  and  reprobationist  views ;  but  the 
MS.  has  not  been  found  among  his  papers. 

It  is  matter  of  regret  that  comparatively  nothing  has  been  reco- 
vered of  the  voluminous  correspondence  maintained  bv  Patrick  with 
many  of  the  most  conspicuous  personages  of  his  time  in  church  and 
state.  A  far  more  adequate  conception  would  have  been  gained 
thereby  than  his  own  modest  and  unassuming  record  might  lead  the 
reader  to  form  of  the  extent  to  which  his  personal  influence  was 
exerted.  The  few  and  comparatively  unimportant  letters  appended 
to  his  life  comprise  nearly  all  that  the  most  careful  inquiry  has  ena- 
bled the  editor  to  bring  together  from  various  sources.  The  lengthy 
series  addressed  to  lady  Gauden  is  more  remarkable  for  the  light  it 
reflects  upon  the  writer's  mind  and  character  than  for  topics  illustra- 
tive of  the  time.  Several  incidental  notices  therein  will  however  be 
found  to  possess  matter  of  interest  to  the  historical  reader,  such  as 
those  which  refer  to  the  progress  and  ravages  of  the  great  plague.  The 
writer's  calm  and  courageous  faith,  at  a  season  of  such  fearful  peril, 
and  his  unswerving  sentiment  of  Christian  duty,  when  so  many  of  his 
brethren  sufl^ered  their  posts  to  be  betrayed,  shine  through  the  veil 
which  his  meek  and  unselfish  temperament  seeks  by  instinct  to  throw 
over  his  thoughts  and  actions.  This  correspondence  had  already 
passed  the  press  in  its  present  form,  as  abridged  by  Cole,  when 
by  an  unexpected  chance  the  originals  in  Patrick's  own  handwriting 
were  brought  to  light  among  a  quantity  of  literarj-  lumber  in  the 
library  of  Milton  Hall.  They  thus  came  into  the  editor's  hands  too 
late  to  be  inserted  at  length.  Considering  their  great  number, 
sixty-two  in  all,  the  length  to  which  each  extends,  and  the  sameness 
of  the  theme  with  which  they  deal, — the  spiritual  experiences  and 
sympathies  of  two  romantic  natures,  poured  forth  in  all  the  confi- 
dence which  the  privacy  of  the  pastoral  relation  was  calculated  to 
inspire, — the  loss  entailed  upon  the  pubhc  by  their  curtailment  will 
not  be  inordinately  deplored.  They  could  at  the  best  but  have  fur- 
nished another  chapter  to  the  history  of  that  phase  of  religious  en- 
thusiasm, which  the  English  reader  has  generally  been  accustomed 
to  see  depicted  in  foreign  models.  In  the  glimpses  of  melancholy 
and  somewhat  dreamy  pietism  which  are  evinced  by  the  scanty 
letters  of  his  female  confidante  or  penitent,  might  be  seen  reflected 
many  traits  of  the  romantic  and  imaginative  temper  of  which  Ma- 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cli 


dame  Guyon  aud  Madame  de  Chantal  are  the  most  familiar  types. 
In  the  reproofs  and  precepts  of  her  director  or  confessor,  even  in 
their  present  abbreviated  form,  may  be  traced  not  a  little  of  that 
mystic  tenderness,  and  indulgent  sympathy  for  pious  weakness,  which 
breathes  in  its  purest  and  holiest  form  through  the  spiritual  counsels 
of  F6n61on  and  de  Sales. 

The  whole  correspondence  is  obviously  exceptional  in  character, 
and,  while  serving  to  point  out  a  peculiar  trait  of  mind  and  temper 
in  the  writer,  need  in  no  sense  be  regarded  as  an  instance  of  the 
ordinary  footing  on  which  so  careful  and  guarded  a  curate  of  souls 
would  conduct  a  spiritual  control  over  his  parishioners. 

Many  other  collections  are  known  to  have  been  formed  of  Patrick's 
epistolary  labours,  showing  the  value  set  upon  his  judgment,  and  the 
extent  to  which  he  was  consulted  in  points  connected  with  the  for- 
tunes of  the  church,  or  the  private  concerns  of  individuals.  But  it 
is  at  least*  doubtful  whether  any  material  portion  of  them  be  now 
existing.  The  Rev.  Thomas  Comber,  rector  of  Buckworth,  Hants, 
is  known  to  have  had  several  in  his  possession  at  the  close  of  the 
last  century,  in  combination  with  others  from  Tillotson,  Stillingfleet, 
and  other  eminent  prelates. — NichoUs'  Literary  Anecdotes,  i.  602. 
Sir  Henry  Ellis  in  his  Second  Series  of  original  letters  includes  four 
written  by  Hickes  to  Patrick,  in  the  year  1677,  relative  to  the 
affairs  of  the  church  in  Scotland,  particularly  the  trial  of  Michell  for 
the  murder  of  the  archbishop  of  St.  Andrew's  (vol.  ii.  40-56).  But 
Patrick's  replies  do  not  appear  to  have  been  preserved. 

A  letter  addressed  to  Patrick  by  dean  Comber  on  the  19th  of  Octo- 
ber, i68g,  relative  to  the  proposed  revision  of  the  liturgy,  is  printed 
from  the  Tanner  MSS.  in  Cardwell's  History  of  Conferences,  p.  4 13. 

Whiston  has  transmitted  a  letter  addressed  to  himself,  which  de- 
serves insertion  here,  as  illustrating  the  gentleness  and  forbearance 
with  which  Patrick  was  disposed  to  exercise  his  judicial  functions  on 
points  connected  with  the  political  derangements  of  the  time.  A  ru- 
mour had  prevailed  to  the  effect  that  Dr. Turner,  president  of  Corpus 
Christi  college,  had  resolved  to  decline  the  oath  of  abjuration  of  the 
pretender,  thereby  subjecting  himself  to  the  loss  of  all  his  prefer- 
ments in  the  church,  by  the  ist  of  August,  1702.  Patrick,  having 
been  advertised  to  that  effect  by  Tenison,  made  Whiston  a  condi- 
tional offer  of  the  prebend  about  to  be  vacated  by  Turner  at  Ely. 
But  on  his  arrival  at  Ely  with  the  expectation  of  taking  possession. 


clii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


Whiston  had  the  following  letter  put  into  his  hands,  explaining  Pa- 
trick's inability  to  ratify  the  nomination. 

Ely,  Aug.  i8,  1702. 

"  Good  Sir, 

"  Having  the  intelligence  which  I  sent  you  about  Dr.  Turner,  from 
no  less  person  than  his  grace  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  I  thought 
it  might  be  relied  on,  for  he  said  he  had  it  from  good  hands.  But 
hearing  it  contradicted  I  wrote  to  his  grace,  to  know  whether  there 
were  any  certainty  in  it,  and  by  the  last  post  received  an  answer, 
that  he  doth  not  know  what  to  believe,  reports  are  so  various.  Cer- 
tain it  is  he  went  on  the  28th  of  July  from  London,  with  a  resolu- 
tion not  to  take  the  oath,  but  quit  all  his  preferments.  And  yet  on 
the  3rd  of  August  one  of  my  acquaintance  came  through  Oxford,  lay 
there  all  night,  and  dined  with  the  head  of  a  house  next  day,  and 
was  with  several  others,  but  heard  not  one  word  of  his  lin  ing  down 
his  presidentship,  as  was  reported.  This  he  told  me  here  last  week, 
and  on  Sunday  I  saw  a  letter  to  one  in  this  town,  from  a  fellow  of 
his  college,  who  says  he  saw  the  president.  Dr.  Turner,  at  prayers 
that  day  in  the  chappel,  which  was  the  twelfth  instant,  which  makes 
me  think  he  changed  his  mind  when  he  was  gone  from  London,  and 
hath  qualified  himself  to  keep  his  preferments.  However  it  be,  I 
intended  very  sincerely  towards  you,  who  may  look  upon  it  as  a  token 
of  my  future  kindness,  if  it  be  in  my  power. 

"  Yours,  Sy.  Eliensis." 

It  would  appear  that  Turner,  finding  no  active  steps  to  be  taken 
for  bringing  him  to  the  test  of  subscription,  Patrick's  liberality  and 
kindliness  not  disposing  him  to  be  the  instrument  of  inflicting  ruin 
upon  an  able  and  virtuous  clergyman,  prudently  remained  quiet  until 
the  affair  blew  over,  and  remained  without  molestation  in  his  pre- 
bendal  stall.  Whiston  takes  credit  to  himself  for  forbearing  to  press 
the  opportunity,  as  he  might  have  done,  to  Turner's  detriment,  out  of 
personal  respect  towards  him.  Ten  years  later,  being  straitened  in  cir- 
cumstances, he  confesses  to  having  made  his  forbearance  the  basis  of 
an  appeal  for  pecuniary  assistance ;  which,  notwithstanding,  to  his  no 
small  chagrin,  Turner  suffered  to  pass  unnoticed^. 

Another  letter  tends  to  evince  his  solicitude  to  place  the  legiti- 

a  Whi.ston'i)  Memoirs,  p.  201-315. 


EDITOR'S  PHEFACE. 


cliii 


mate  restraints  of  the  constitution  upon  the  growth  of  Anabaptist 
errors  in  his  diocese. 

"For  the  reverend  Mr. Williams,  Rector  of  Doddington,  these, 
"Sir, 

"  You  have  done  very  worthily  and  prudently  in  stopping  the 
progress  of  the  Anabapt.  faction,  by  applying  y^self  to  the  justices, 
to  call  their  unlicensed  school  master  to  account  :  who  you  tell  me, 
and  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  have  bound  him  over  to  appear  at  the  next 
sessions.  I  think  you  need  not  fear  his  procuring  a  license  from  the 
archbps  court :  for  I  had  the  like  attempt  here  at  Littleport,  where 
I  refused  to  license  a  fellow  whom  a  party  had  set  up  against  one 
who  had  a  long  time  taught  school  there  with  good  acceptance; 
whereupon  they  pretended  to  have  not  onely  applyed  themselves 
above,  but  actually  procured  the  archbP'^  license,  and  showed  an  in- 
strument with  a  seal  to  it  to  the  ignorant  people.  But  I  soon  found  it 
was  a  cheate ;  the  archbp.  haveing  granted  none,  and  haveing  given 
a  strict  charge  in  his  office  that  none  should  be  granted,  (as  he  told 
me  himself,)  without  acquainting  the  bp.  of  the  diocese  with  it.  But 
for  fear  of  the  worst,  I  will  write  to  his  grace  by  the  next  post,  and 
let  him  know  what  the  sectaries  pretend  ;  who,  I  am  sure,  will  stop 
the  granting  of  a  licence,  or  revoke  it,  if  any  have  been  granted. 
Which  I  think  you  need  not  fear ;  for  after  a  great  deal  of  vapouring 
at  Littleport  al)t.  the  licence  they  said  they  had  got,  the  fellow  durst 
not  appear  at  the  sessions,  nor  come  to  me,  but  ran  the  country. 

"  I  am,  Sir,  your  assured  friend  and  brother, 

Ely,  Aug.  J,  1697.  "  Sy.  Eliens.'  " 

The  editor  is  indebted  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Jacobson,  Regius  Professor 
of  Divinity,  and  Canon  of  Ch.  Ch.,  for  the  knowledge  of  six  letters 
written  by  Patrick  to  Wake,  in  the  years  1 700—1,  and  preserved  in  the 
library  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford.  They  are  not  such  as  to  call  for 
insertion  at  length,  relating  chiefly  to  researches  set  on  foot  by 
Wake  in  the  various  diocesan  and  capitular  registries,  for  materials 
for  his  work  on  the  State  of  the  Church  and  Clergy  in  England, 
against  Atterbury.  The  longest  adverts  to  Patrick's  having  em- 
ployed his  mediatory  offices  with  Tenison  for  permission  to  dedicate 


t-  Cole  MSS.  5831,  fol.  148. 


cliv 


EDITOR'S  PPEFACE. 


the  book  to  the  archbishop.  In  his  preface,  written  in  1703,  Wake 
makes  recognition  of  the  ser\'ices  rendered  to  him  by  Patrick  among 
other  bishops. — p.  15. 


Particulars  of  family  history  from  Bishop  Patrick's 
OWN  time  to  the  present  day. 

Particular  notice  is  due,  in  the  first  place,  to  the  memory  of  the 
bishop's  only  brother,  John  Patrick.  This  eminent  scholar  and 
theologian  was  born  at  Gainsborough  more  than  five  years  later 
than  his  brother  Symon,  the  date  of  his  baptism  (that  of  his  birth 
not  stated)  being  registered  on  the  4th  of  April,  1632,  that  of 
Symon,  Sept.  18,  1626:  the  latter  having  been  born  on  the  eighth 
of  that  month.  Archdeacon  Knight's  notice  of  John  Patrick's  cha- 
racter and  career  contains  the  fullest  particulars  that  can  be  ascer- 
tained. "  He  was  admitted,"  it  states,  "  into  Queens  College 
under  y^  same  tutor  as  his  brother,  Mr.  Wells,  3  July,  1647  c,  so 
cou'd  not  be  much  younger  than  his  brother,  who  was  admitted  in 
1644:  it  is  certain  they  were  both  hard  students,  and  there  was  a 
laudable  emulation  between  them  to  excell  in  all  parts  of  good  and 
useful  learning,  in  which  both  afterwards  made  so  considerable  a 
figure  in  the  church^.  He  was  at  Batersey  till  by  his  brothers  in- 
terest he  removed  to  the  Preachership  of  the  Charter- House,  where 
he  continued  to  his  death :  the  leysure  he  enjoyed  here  was  very  pro- 
fitably spent  for  y*  use  of  y^  publick.  The  first  book  he  published 
seems  to  be  his  Reflexions  upon  y'  Devotions  of  if  Roman  Church, 
&c.  printed  1674,  and  another  edition  afterward.  He  did  not  put  his 
name  to  it,  but  is  generally  known  to  be  his^.  common  singing 
Psalms  being  by  length  of  time,  and  obsolete  phrases,  hardly  intel- 
ligible, he  obliged  world  with  a  new  version  of  them  :  and  how 
he  succeeded,  the  acceptance  it  has  mett  with  is  a  suflicient  evi- 
dence, shewing  his  excellent  talent  in  divine  poetry.  For  although 
there  has  been  another  since  published  by  two  celebrated  poets,  yet 

c  Joh.  Patricke  Lincolniensis  admissus  sizator  Tutore  M">  Wells.  [Kegr.  Coll. 
Regin.] 

^  [The  Eegister  of  Queen's  records  that  John  Patrick  matriculated  there 
July  10,  1647,  graduated  B.  A.  in  Jan.  165^,  and  M.  A.  in  1654  ] 

•  He  had  in  a  good  measure  prepared  a  2d  part  of  this  book,  containing 
ye  Devotions  paid  by  the  papists  to  y*  Virgin  Mary,  &c.,  but  this  was  never 
published. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


cIt 


by  good  judges  our  doctors  performance  seems  to  be  most  valued, 
as  being  more  agreeable  to  the  Divine  spirit  of  the  royal  Psalmist, 
and  more  suitable  for  common  use;  this  came  out  first  in  12°,  1684. 
By  his  brothers  interest  in  Lloyd,  then  Bp.  of  Peterborough,  he 
got  y^  first  Prebend  in  that  Church^;  soon  after,  in  K.  James  2  ' 
reign,  he  was  one  of  those  protestant  champions  who  writt  boldly 
against  popery :  his  first  attack  was  ag*  their  chief  bulwark,  Tran- 
substantiation,  which  he  proved  to  be  no  doctrine  of  the  primitive 
fathersS,  being  a  defence  of  ye  Dublin  letter.  Then  he  set  forth  a 
Full  view  of  y'  doctrines  and  practices  of  Ancient  Church,  relating 
to  y^  Eucharist,  wholly  different  from  those  of  y^  present  Roman 
Church,  and  inconsistent  with  y^  belief  of  Transubstantiation,  being 
a  sufficient  confutation  of  Consensus  veterum,  Nubes  Testium,  and 
other  late  collections  of  the  fathers,  pretending  y^  contrary,  4to.; 
as  also  another  (viz.)  The  Virgin  Mary  misrepresented  by  y"  Roman 
Church,  in  y"  traditions  of  that  Church  concerning  her  life  and  glory, 
and  in  devotions  paid  to  her  as  mother  of  God :  both  shewed  out  of 
y"  office  of  that  Church,  y«  lessons  on  her  Festivals,  and  from  their 
allowed  authors.  Part  i.  wherein  two  of  her  Feasts,  her  Conception, 
and  Nativity  are  considered.  It  was  expected  that  the  ingenious 
author  of  this  diverting  discourse  wou'd  have  obliged  the  world  with 
a  2d  part  of  this  work,  and  so  teach  the  papists  at  length  to  grow 
ashamed  of  their  intolerable  superstitions  towards  y^  Virgin  Mary ; 
but  ye  times  cleared  up,  and  there  was  no  farther  occasion  for  that 
trouble.  As  D""  J.Patrick  had  always  a  very  high  opinion  of  Chil- 
lingworths  Rational  defence  of  y«  protestant  Religion,  in  his  known 
book  of  y6  Religion  of  protestants  a  safe  way  to  Salvation,  so  he 
took  ye  pains  to  abridge  it,  for  common  use,  and  pubhsht  it  with 
some  other  pieces  never  before  extant,  in  4to,  1687.  Moreover 
finding  y^  monument  of  that  great  man  in  the  cloisters  belonging  to 
ye  Cathedral  Church  at  Chichester  almost  wholly  defaced  and  ruined, 
at  his  own  proper  cost  and  charge  he  reedified  it  again  in  a  very 
decent  manner ;  the  Inscription  on  which  being  omitted  by  y*  late 
author  of  his  life  (Mayzeaux),  it  may  be  found  amongst  y*  collec- 
tions at  ye  end  of  this  work  ;  ye  Inscription  was  put  up  by  D'" Whitby, 

'  [Collated  July  1,  installed  July  11,  1685. — Le  Neve,  ii.  544.] 
f  Transubstantiation  no  doctrine  of  the  primitive  Fathers,  &c.  4to.  Lond. 
1687. 


clvi 


EDITOK'3  PREFACE. 


and  broken  down  by  Captain  Chej'nel :  y*  present  erected  bv  John 
Patrick,  Chantor  of  Chichester,  was  repaired  by  ye  Dean  and  Chap- 
ter in  I  725,  and  some  mistakes  amended  in  it. 

"After  ye  Revolution,  in  ye  year  1 69 1 ,  Arch  Bp.Tillotson  presented 
him  with  his  Doctors  degree  in  Divinity  ;  and  soon  after,  his  brother 
being  Bishop  of  Chichester,  made  him  Chanter  of  that  Church,  to 
wch  ye  preb.  of  Oving  is  annexed,  which  was  conferred  on  him  28 
of  July,  i6goli,  upon  ye  deprivation  of  Rob.  Jenkins,  for  not  taking 
y-  oaths  (who  was,  after  he  complied,  M""  of  St.  John's  College  in 
Cambridge,  and  Margaret  Professor  of  ye  University,  which,  w'h  ye 
prebend  of  Peterborough,  was  all  ye  preferment  he  ever  had,  as  I  can 
find.)  I  shou'd  not  omitt  his  good  skill  in  mathematical  studies, 
which  appears  from  several  vollumes  in  that  science  written  by  his 
own  hand,  and  probably  designed  for  ye  presse.  In  his  will  bearing 
date  ye  6th  of  December,  1695,  after  some  legacies  and  charities,  he 
constitutes  his  brother,  then  Bp.  of  Ely,  sole  executor.  His  chief 
substance  was  his  books,  which  cost  him  above  a  thousand  pounds, 
which,  with  the  remainder  of  what  he  had,  fell  to  him  :  there  were 
few  in  his  time  who  had  so  extensive  a  knowledge  of  books,  which 
made  his  library  ye  more  valuable.  I  know  not  how  it  came  to 
passe,  he  had  some  enemies  who  traduced  him  as  not  well  affected 
to  ye  established  church,  which  did  some  time  put  a  stop  to  his  pre- 
ferment, as  appears  by  a  letter  of  Bp.  Lloyd,  of  Peterb.:  but  the 
contrary  appears  in  all  his  writings  he  published." 

The  following  inscription  marks  the  spot  where  his  remains  are 
interred  in  the  chapel  of  the  Charter-house. — 

"  Here  lyes  the  body  of  John  Patrick,  D.  D.,  preacher  to  this 
house  24  years,  who  departed  this  life  19  Dec  1695.  His  works 
praise  him." 

Bishop  Patrick  had  an  only  sister,  Mary,  married  to  the  Rev.  Ro- 
bert Middleton,  rector  of  Cuckfield,  Sussex,  a  liberal  supporter  of 
the  Society  for  promoting  Christian  knowledge,  to  which  he  be- 
queathed a  quantity  of  books.  A  legacy  of  £50  was  bequeathed  to 
her  in  a  codicil  to  her  brother's  will. — Vol.  ix.  p.  675.  The  date  of 
Mrs.  Middleton's  death,  on  a  slab  in  Cuckfield  church,  is  Nov.  i, 
1708,  that  of  her  husband's  burial,  in  the  register.  May  14,  1713. 

^  [Installed  July  ig,  1690  Le  Neve,  i.  266  ;  bishop  Patrick's  Register  in 

the  Chapter  hoizse  at  Chichester.] 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


clvii 


The  Bishop's  widow,  Penelope,  whose  family  history  and  connec- 
tions, together  with  the  romantic  circumstances  attending  her  mar- 
riage, have  been  detailed  in  the  Autobiography,  and  accompanying 
notes,  survived  her  husband's  loss  nearly  eighteen  years.  Where 
and  how  the  residue  of  her  days  was  spent,  has  not  been  placed  on 
record,  nor  is  any  thing  known  concerning  her  charactei-  and  private 
history,  beyond  the  few  traits  which  her  husband's  affectionate  and 
almost  reverential  notices  suffer  to  be  recognised.  Her  remains 
lie  with  those  of  her  husband  in  the  cathedral  at  Ely,  and  at  the 
foot  of  his  monument  the  following  inscription  to  her  memory  is 
subjoined. — 

"  In  the  vault  underneath,  with  the  late  Bp.  Patrick,  lyes  his  pious 
relict  Mrs.  Penelope  Patrick,  aged  79  years,  who  died  at  St.  Ed- 
mund's Bury,  the  10th  of  April,  1725,  esteemed  when  living  by  all 
that  knew  her,  and  very  much  regretted  by  the  poor  of  that  place, 
who  have  felt  the  want  of  her  frequent  and  liberal  beneficence." 

The  Bishop's  only  surviving  son,  Symon,  was  born  Oct.  2,  1680, 
and  baptized  the  day  following'.  Having  begun  his  education  at 
Etonl^,  he  proceeded  to  Cambridge,  where  he  entered  at  his  father's 
college  in  16971,  graduated  there,  became  fellow,  and  M.  A.  in 
170J  On  the  14th  of  June,  1702,  he  was  joined  by  his  father's 
hands  in  marriage  with  Ann  Fountayne,  the  eldest  daughter  of 
a  v,realthy  country  gentleman  at  Melton,  whose  ancestrv  for  three 
generations  has  been  traced  in  the  Patrick  pedigree.  On  his  fa- 
ther's death  he  came  into  possession  of  the  estate  which  the  bishop 
had  purchased  at  Dalham,  in  Suffolk,  in  the  hope  of  perpetuating 
his  family  as  territorial  proprietors.  In  that  hope  he  was  not  des- 
tined to  be  gratified.  The  son's  extravagant  and  wasteful  habits 
were  not  long  in  involving  the  property  in  serious  embarrassments, 
and  on  his  death  an  act  of  parliament  was  obtained,  enabling  his 
executors  to  sell  the  Dalham  estate,  in  order  to  clear  off  debts  and 
encumbrances.  He  died  Nov.  20,  1711,  and  is  buried  at  Dalham. 
A  sermon  of  his,  "  Against  Judging  and  Censuring,"  preached  be- 
fore queen  Anne  at  Windsor,  Aug.  31,  1707,  and  published  by  royal 
command,  reached  a  second  edition  in  1709.  His  only  son,  likewise 
named  Symon,  was  born  March  23,  1706,  and  in  due  time  entered 
at  Catherine  hall,  Cambridge,  where  he  took  the  degree  of  B.  A.  in 

'  Vol.  ix.  p.  472.  k  p  1  p 

"  Catalogue  of  Cambridge  Graduates. 


clviii 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


1726,  and  that  of  M.  A.  in  1730".  A  note  in  Cole's  MS.  Collec- 
tions in  the  British  Museum,  vol.  xlii.  fol.  269,  records  that  "  Simon 
Patrick,  of  Catherine  hall,  was  appointed  scholar  of  modern  history 
by  royal  mandate.  May  31,  1725."  He  appears  to  have  held  some 
appointment  in  the  customs,  since  among  the  Lansdowne  MSS.  (8), 
in  the  British  Museum,  a  letter  is  preserved  from  Symon  Patrick  to 
Ward,  professor  of  rhetoric  at  Gresham  college,  on  the  subject  of  the 
returns  of  Excise,  and  application  of  divers  public  monies,  dated  Oct.  7, 
1736.  He  died  Oct.  4,  1739,  ^^'^  ^'^'^  certainly  married,  but  appears 
to  have  left  no  issue;  in  a  testamentary  paper,  dated  Aug.  19,1739, 
mention  being  made  of  "my  dear  and  newly  married  wife  Eliza- 
beth," to  whom  he  bequeathes  the  sum  of  four  thousand  pounds. 
The  letters  of  administration  taken  out  after  his  death  describe  him 
as  "  formerly  of  Foulbriggs,  city  of  Edinburgh,  but  late  in  the  parish 
of  St.  Martins  in  the  Fields,  co.  Middlesex."  His  certificate  of  burial 
of  in  St.  Martin's  church  is  dsted  Oct.  9,  1739.  With  him  the  bi- 
shop's male  issue  terminated,  and  the  family  name  became  extinct. 

The  family,  however,  has  been  perpetuated  in  the  female  line.  The 
bishop's  son  Symon  left  three  daughters;  of  whom  the  eldest,  Pene- 
lope, born  July  21,  1704°,  became  the  second  wife  of  the  right  hon. 
Edward  Weston,  and  left  two  sons,  who  died  without  issue  P :  the 
second,  Ann,  born  March  18,  1707,  died  in  infancy,  Jan.  12,  1712  : 
the  third,  Judith,  married  Dr.  John  Thomas,  bishop  successively  of 
St. Asaph,  Lincoln  and  Salisbury,  and  died  childless  1;  and  the  fifth 
and  youngest,  Catherine,  died  unmarried,  and  was  interred  at  Bury 
St.  Edmund's,  Jan.  9,  1792,  aged  82  years'".  Through  the  fourth  of 
these  female  descendants  alone  is  the  family  represented  at  the 
present  time.  Mary,  the  youngest  but  one,  born  Oct.  18,1719, 
became  on  the  5th  of  October,  1730,  the  wife  of  John  Kerrich,  M.D. 
of  Bury  St.  Edmund's,  through  which  union  a  numerous  succes- 
sion of  living  descendants  may  trace  their  ancestry,  by  converging 
lines,  to  the  same  venerable  prelate.  The  accompanying  genealo- 
gical table  will  indicate  with  sufficient  clearness  the  several  families 
that  in  the  generation  now  current  are  entitled  to  claim  aflfinity  with 
him.    Sundry  relics  of  their  ancestor  continue  to  be  cherished  with 

n  Catalogue  of  Cambridge  Graduates.  o  Vol.  ix.  p.  557. 

P  Nicholls'  Literary  Anecdotes,  iii.  216.  The  sons  are  mentioned  in  their  aunt 
Mrs.  Thomas'  will.  1  Burke's  Landed  Gentry,  art.  '  Kerrich.'  Regis- 
ter of  Bury  St.  Edmund's. 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


clix 


pious  care  as  heirlooms  in  more  than  one  household  of  the  series. 
Among  these  are  his  portrait  and  that  of  his  lady,  by  Lely,  his  study - 
clock,  in  perfect  preservation,  certain  books,  pictures,  and  articles  of 
china. 

Some  allusion  may  be  expected  to  be  made  here  to  bishop  Patrick's 
characteristics  of  person  and  carriage.  On  this  point  no  information 
has  come  down  beyond  what  can  be  gathered  fi'om  the  numerous 
pictures  and  engravings  which  are  extant.  Several  of  the  later  edi- 
tions of  his  works  exhibit  his  portrait  as  a  frontispiece,  engraved  in 
general  from  the  painting  by  Kneller  preserved  in  the  chapter  house 
of  Ely  cathedral.  Another  picture  of  him,  said  to  be  by  Lely, 
hangs  in  the  gallery  of  Lambeth  palace.  To  judge  from  these 
representations,  so  far  as  the  conventional  style  of  portraiture  then 
in  vogue  permits  the  natural  features  to  be  reahsed,  Patrick  must 
have  been  tall  and  powerfully  framed,  his  countenance  grave,  mas- 
sive and  well  defined,  inclining  towards  sadness,  if  not  severity,  in 
expression,  but  relieved  by  a  look  of  greater  light  and  tenderness 
about  the  eyes.  He  is  habited  in  his  episcopal  robes,  and  is  de- 
picted as  he  must  have  appeared  at  the  time  of  his  first  elevation 
to  the  bench,  before  the  hand  of  time  had  told  with  serious  effect 
upon  a  constitution,  which,  somewhat  impaired  by  too  sedulous  de- 
votion to  study  in  early  youth  had  by  temperate  and  careful  usage 
become  capable  of  supporting  the  ceaseless  labours  of  a  protracted 
hfe. 


At  this  point  the  proper  functions  of  the  editor  terminate.  In 
laying  aside  a  task,  the  discharge  of  which  has  often  brought  pain- 
fully home  to  his  mind  the  consciousness  of  many  causes  of  disquali- 
fication for  so  varied  and  arduous  a  commission  of  literary  trust,  he 
feels  himself  compelled  to  crave,  at  the  hands  of  the  public,  a  lenient 
consideration  of  such  shortcomings  and  omissions  as  may  be  de- 
tected in  these  volumes,  as  well  as  of  casual  errors  and  inaccuracies 
of  statement, 

 "  quas  aut  incuria  fudit, 

Aut  humana  parum  cavit  natura." 

He  has  little  fear  of  a  harsh  construction  of  such  failings,  from  those 
who  have  learnt  by  experience  to  realise  the  difficulty  of  sustaining 
'  See  vol.  ix.  p.  427. 


clx 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE. 


the  attention  without  flagging  or  wandering  through  so  continuous 
an  effort,  concurrently  with  the  numberless  calls  and  interruptions 
incident  to  a  sphere  of  active  ministerial  duty.  The  reader  is  at 
the  same  time  requested  to  understand,  that  for  all  matters,  whether 
of  fact  or  sentiment,  advanced  in  the  preface  or  notes  to  the  following 
volumes,  the  editor  is  to  be  considered  as  wholly  and  solely  respon- 
sible. 

A  more  grateful  task  remains,  in  the  duty  which  finally  devolves 
upon  him,  of  expressing  his  sense  of  obligation  to  those  friends,  by 
whose  aid  and  cooperation  his  work  has  been  in  no  slight  degree 
facilitated.  Not  to  attempt  an  effort  wholly  beyond  his  power,  the 
acknowledgment  of  every  individual  quarter  from  which  valuable 
assistance  has  been  derived,  he  would  make  particular  and  thankful 
recognition  of  the  kind  offices  of  John  Percy  Baumgartner,  Esq.,  to 
whom  he  is  indebted  for  the  loan  of  the  valuable  collection  of  docu- 
ments, repeatedly  referred  to  in  the  notes  and  preface,  bequeathed 
by  Dr.  Knight.  To  John  Kerrich,  Esq.,  of  Geldeston  Hall,  Norfolk, 
and  the  Rev.  T.  V.  Fosbery,  vicar  of  St.  Mary's,  Reading,  he  has  to 
express  his  obligation  for  important  particulars  of  information  con- 
nected with  the  family  history  of  their  great  relative ;  as  well  rts  to 
the  Rev.  John  Marriott,  of  Bradfield,  Berks,  for  the  use  of  numerous 
printed  copies  of  bishop  Patrick's  works,  several  of  them  rare,  and  not 
otherwise  to  be  met  with.  His  grateful  thanks  are  likewise  due  to 
the  directors  of  the  various  public  institutions  at  which  he  has  been 
privileged  to  carry  on  his  inquiries ;  particularly  to  Felix  Kny  vett, 
Esq.,  whose  uniform  courtesy  he  has  had  frequent  occasion  to  expe- 
rience during  his  researches  in  the  library  of  Lambeth  Palace. 


Paddington, 
Dec.  17,  1858. 


ALEXANDER  TAYLOR. 


PEDIGREE    OF    THE    FAMILY    OF  PATRICK. 


I.  Mary  I?liesant, 
sister  to  P'jter  Pile- 

sant,  J.  C.  P., 
bur.  Dec.  4,  1587, 


SYMON  PATRIKE,=ri.DorotheaCartwright,^3.  Suian  Moigne, 


Gentleman,  ofCaistor, 
Line.  d.  1613, 


bur.  Sept.  30.  1601. 


Syinon, 
uf  S.  Peter'ii 
College,  Cam- 
bridge, and 
Lincoln's  Inn, 
bapt.  Oct.  28, 
15S5. 


Vincent, 
bnr.  .Tan 
.11,1619 


.1 


William, 
bapt.  N..\ 

14.  1590, 
bnr.  Apr.  2 
1591- 


bapt 


Mar. 


Edward, 
biipt.  Sept. 
22.  1=94. 


John, 
bapt,  Sept. 
10,  1595. 


Henry,  t=  Mary  Naylo 

bapt. 
Sept.  5, 

1596, 
d.  Aug. 
16.  ir.65. 


Vincent, 


Eiiward,       John,      Elizabeth,  Frances. 


Bridget, 
bapt.  Jan. 
12,  1598, 
bur.  Feb. 

22,  ifio^. 


Thomas, 
hupt.  Mar. 
24,' 1599. 


Marj'. 
bapt.  Mar. 
29,  160  [. 


Faith, 
bapt.  Dec. 
19,  160?. 


Elizabeth, 
bapt.  Jan. 


bur,  Apr 
3.  16:;. 


Sir  Jolin  Dynhain.  ^  Penelope 


I.  Laur.  Banastre,  =p  Mary." 
William  Lewis,  =p Margaret. 


Alicia,  -7-  tien.  Je]>hson, 
ofFroyle. 


Mai-y,  =  Myles 
Sandys. 


Thomas,  Edward, 
d,  s.  p.       d.-  .1.  p. 


Mary,  =  Wilham,     Denham.  Anttmy, 
d. 1691. 


SYMON  PATHICK,  Bish.i 
b,  Sept.  S.1626. 
il.  May.U.'  707. 


Peiieluf,.;  Jt.|.hs 
b.  1^,46.  m..hm. 
ir)7v.l  Apr  To,i 


William, 
b.  July  I.  1678, 
d.  July  12,  1678, 


Penelope, 
b.  Dec.  I.  168.5 . 
d.  Sept.  10,  1687 


John,  Mary,  =  Rev.  R( 

liapt,  Apr.  ly,  167,2,  d.  Nov.  i,  rector 

l*t(.-:icber  U>  the  Charter-House,  1708. 
d.  Dec.  19,  1695. 


Thomas  Foiintaimr,  -r-  Anne  Chester. 


bertMiddleton. 
ofCuckfield, 
Sussex . 


John, - 


Tliomae  Sherlock,  =  Juditli. 


Symon,    ^  Anne  Fountaine, 
b. Oct.  2, 1679,         m.  June  T4. 
d.  Nov.  20. 


Symon. 
b.  Mar.  23, 
1706,  ob.  3,  p. 
Oct.  4,  17.(9. 


Penelope, 
b.  July  21, 
704,  m.  Jan, 


R.  Hon.  Ed.  Weston.  =  2  Anne 

of  Sonierby.  Fountaine. 


Anne, 
b.  Mar.  18, 
1 707,  d.  Jan. 


Dr.  John  Thomas, 
hp,  of  Salisbury, 


=  Juditli.  .)uhu  Kerrich,: 

b.Xov.4,1708.  M.D.ofBury. 

Will  dated  m.  Oct.  5, 

Dct,  18,  1750.  '".^fi- 


:  Mary, 
b.  Oct.  1 8, 
1709. 


Catherine, 
bur.  Jan.  9, 
179^- 
a.'ed  83. 


John  kerrich,=y:  Amelia, 
of  Harleston, 
Norfolk, 
b.  Aug.  18, 
1733,  d.  Aug. 


795- 


d.  of  Symon 
Keirich  of 
Harleston. 
Esq.  ob.  Nov. 
27.  >797- 


Walter, 
Canon  of 
Salisbury, 
b.  Apr.  24. 

.1.  iSo.i. 


=p  Christian, 
d.  of  Rev, 
E  W.Wyneve, 
of  Chelsworth, 
Suffolk. 


Thoma.s,  =f:  Alice  Drew, 


Rector  of 
Horringer. 


of  Chedburgli. 


Walter, 
Rector  of 
Paulempury. 


Edwai-d, 
ob.  Jmi.  6, 
1811,  s,  p. 


John, 
b.i9Nov. 

ob.  Apr. 
1S12. 


:  Elizabeth, 
eld.  d  of  John 
Walker  of 
Walls  End, 
Northumber- 
land, ob.  at 
Nantes,  19 


Amelia,  =^ 
ih.  14  Feb. 
1807, 


iieorge  Goocii,  Esq. 
Capt.  H.E.LC.S, 


Emily  Sarah.  =  Rev.  T.  V.  Fosbery. 


eorgiaua,  =  R.  Cooke  Fowler, 
of  Gunton  Hall,  Suffolk. 


.1 


John  Kerrich,    =    Mary  Eleanor, 
ofGuIdeston  Hall,    eldest  survi>nng  d, 
Norfolk.  Esq.       of  John  Fitzgerald, 
1>.  Dec.  !2,  179S.      of  Nascby,  Esq. 


Thomas, 
of  Florence, 
b,  Dec.  30. 
1S03. 


Harriet  Frances, 
d.  of  George 
Baring, 


Edwarii,  =  Marv  Evelyn  Susan, 
b,Jan.i3,       d,  of  Rich.  Fuller, 
1803.  Esq.  ofWoodton, 

Su^Te^  - 


Adeline,  =^Kev.  E.H.  Hopper 
(now  Hhipperdson) 
of  Walworth, 
Durham. 


[T(.  face  J.,  clx.  vnl.  !. 


LIST 


OF 


EDITIONS. 


ABUL-PHARAGIUS,  Specimen  histovise  Arabiim,  ed.  Pocorko.    4to.  Oxon. 
1650. 

Achilles  Tatius.  8vo.  Lips.  182 1. 
Alting,  Jacobus,  Opp.  fol.  Amst.  1687. 
Ambrosius,  S.  Opp.  ed.  Ben.  fol.  Par.  1686-1690. 
Andreas  Csesariensis,  ad  calc.  CEcumenii.  fol.  Par.  1631. 

Angelus,  Christophorus,  de  Statu  hodiernorum  Grsecorum,  cura  G.  Fehlavii.  4to. 

Lips.  1676. 
Anselmus,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Ven.  1744. 

Antoninus,  M.  Aurelius,  de  rebus  suis,  &c.  8vo.  Lips.  1729. 
Antoninus  Florentinus,  Summa  Theologiae.  fol.  —  1485. 
Aphthonius,  Progyinnasmata.  izmo.  Heid.  iS97- 
Aristides,  .^lius,  Orationes,  ed.  Dindorf.  8vo.  Lips.  1829. 
Aristophanes,  Comoediee.  8vo.  Oxon.  1835. 

  Scholia  in.  8vo.  Par.  1842. 

Aristoteles,  Opp.  8vo.  Oxon.  1837. 

Athanasius,  Opp.  fol.  ed.  Ben.  Par.  1698. 

Athenaeus,  Opp.  8vo.  Arg.  1801-7. 

Aventinus,  Annales  Boiorum.  fol. Lips.  17 10. 

Augustse  Historise  Scriptores.  8vo.  Lugd.  Bat.  1661. 

Augustinus,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1679-1700. 

Azorius,  Institutiones  Morales,  fol.  Lugd.  Bat.  16^2. 

Bacon,  Francis,  Works,  ed.  3Iontagu.  8vo.  Lond.  1825-34. 

Baker,  R.,  Chronicle,  fol.  Lond.  1643. 

Baratti,  Travels,  &c.  in  Ethiopia,  Angl.  8vo.  Lond.  1670. 

Baro,  Sigismundus,  Commentarius  de  rebus  Muscovitarum.  fol.  Bas.  1571. 

Baronius,  Card.,  Annales.  fol.  Lucee,  1738-57. 

Basilius,  S.  Opp.  ed.  Ben.  fol.  Par.  1721-30. 

Basnage,  Histoire  der  Juifs.  1 2mo,  i\  la  Haye,  1 706. 

Beda,  Opp.  fol.  Col.  Agr.  1688. 

Bellarminus,  Card.,  Opp.  fol.  Colon.  Agripp.  1617-20. 
Bemardus,  S.,  Opp.  ed.  Ben.  fol.  Par.  1719. 
Biel,  Gabriel,  Comment,  in  Sent.  4to.  Brix.  1574. 
Bingham,  R.,  Works.  8vo.  Lond.  1840. 
Birch,  Life  of  Tillotson.  8vo.  Lond.  1753. 
Blesensis,  Petrus,  Opp.  4to.  Mogunt.  1660. 
Bochart,  Geographia  Sacra,  fol.  Lugd.  Bat.  1  707. 
Bramhall,  John,  Works.  8vo.  Oxford,  1842-45. 
Bridge,  William,  Works.  8vo.  Lond.  1845. 

Broinpton,  Chronicle,  in  Twysden'n  Historic  Anglicante  Scriptores.    fol.  Lond. 
1052. 

1 


clxii 


List  of  Editions. 


Brook,  Benjamin,  History  of  the  Puritans.  8vo.  Lond.  1813. 
Brlicker,  Historia  totius  Philosopliise.  4to.  Lips.  1767. 
Bull,  George,  Works.  8vo.  Oxon.  1827. 

BuUarium  Romanum,  per  Carolum  Coqueliues.  fol.  Rom.  1739-45. 
Burnet,  History  of  His  Own  Time.  Svo.  Oxford,  1823. 
Buxtorf,  Johannes,  Synagoga  Judaica.  Svo.  Bas.  1680. 

 Lexicon  Chaldaicum,  Talmudicum  et  Rabbinicum.   fol.  Bas.  1639. 

Byzantinae  Historise  Scriptores.  fol.  Par.  1685,  &c. 

Cselius  Rhodiginus,  Lectiones  Antiquse.  fol.  Gen.  1 620. 
Cajetan,  Card.,  in  omnes  Epist.  S.  Pauli.  fol.  1532. 
  in  Thorn.  Aquin.  fol.  Ven.  1593,  94. 

Calamy,  Edmund,  Abridgment  of  Baxter's  Life.  8vo.  Lond.  171 7. 

Calvinus,  J.,  Opp.  fol.  Amst.  1667-71. 

Campbell,  lord.  Lives  of  the  Chancellors.  8vo.  Lond.  1846. 

Canus,  Melcliior,  Card.,  Opp.  8vo.  Col.  Agr,  1605. 

Cardan,  Hieron3rmus.  fol.  Lugd.  Bat.  1663. 

Cardwell,  Edward,  Synodalia.  Svo.  Oxon.  1842. 

 Two  Books  of  Common  Prayer  of  King  Edward  VL  Svo.  Oxon.  1838. 

 Documentary  Annals  of  the  Church  of  England.  Svo.  Oxon.  1S39. 

  History  of  Conferences,  &c.  Svo.  Lond.  1S40. 

Casaubon,  Isaac,  Exercitationes  in  Bellarminum.  fol.  Lond.  1614. 

Cassander,  Georgius,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1616. 

Cassianus,  Opp.  fol.  Francof.  1722. 

Cave,  Lives  of  the  Apostles,  fol.  Lond.  1684-1716. 

Cedrenus,  in  Corp.  Hist.  Byzant. 

Charles  I.,  Works,  fol.  Lond.  1662. 

Chemnitz,  Examen  Concilii  Tridentini.  fol.  Gen.  1634. 

Chrysostomus,  Dio,  Orationes.  Svo.  Lips.  1784. 

  Joannes,  S.  Opp.  ed.  Ben.  Par.  fol.  1718-38. 

Chytraeus,  David,  Regulae  Vitae.  Svo.  Witeb.  1587. 

Clark,  Samuel,  Lives  of  Eminent  Divines,  fol.  Lond.  1683. 

Clarendon,  Edward,  lord.  History  of  the  Rebellion,  royal  Svo.  Oxon.  1843. 

Clemens  Alexandrinus,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Oxon.  1720. 

  Romanus,  S.  Opp.  apud  Coteler.  Patr.  Apost.  fol.  Amst.  1724. 

Cocceius,  Opp.  fol.  Amst.  1701. 

Conciha,  ed.  Mansi.  fol.  Flor.  et  Ven.  1759-98. 

Coufessionum  Corpus  et  Syntagma.  4to.  Amst.  161 2. 

 Sylloge.  Svo.  Oxon.  1827. 

Cosin,  Works.  Svo.  Oxford,  1843-53. 

Cowley,  Prose  Works.  Svo.  Lond.  1826. 

Critici  Sacri.  fol.  Amst.  1698-1732. 

Crusius,  Martinus,  Turco-Grsecia.  fol.  Bar.  1584. 

Cudworth,  Intellectual  System  of  the  Universe,  fol.  Oxon,  1678. 

Cusanus,  Card.,  Opp.  fol.  Bas.  1565. 

Cyprianus,  S.  Opp.  ed.  Fell.  fol.  Oxon.  1682. 

Cyrillus  Alexandrinus,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1638. 

 Hierosolymitanus,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1720. 

Damascenus,  Joannes,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1712. 


List  of  Editions. 


clxiii 


Damianus,  S.  0pp.  fol.  Bas.  1783. 

Daniel,  Thesaurus  Hymnologicus.  8vo.  Halle.  1841-46. 

De  Dieu,  Ludovicus,  Auimadversiones  in  Vetus  Testamentum.    4to.  Lugd.  Bat. 
1648. 

De  Dominis,  Marcus  Antonius,  Spalatensis,  de  Republica  Ecclesiastica.  fol. 

Lond.  et  Franc.  1617-58. 
Delrius,  Martinus,  Adagialia  Sacra  Veteris  et  Novi  Testament!.   4to.  Lugd.  Bat. 

1618. 

Dilherrus,  Michael,  Disputationes  Academicse.  4to.  Norimb.  1652. 
Dio  Cassius,  Historia  Romana.  8vo.  Lips.  1874,  5. 
Dio  Chrysostomus.    Vid.  Chrysostomus. 
Dionysius  Areopagita,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  161 5. 

 Halicamassensis,  Historia  Romana.  8vo.  Lips.  1774. 

Dod,  Church  History,  fol.  Bruss.  1737-42. 

Donne,  John,  Works.  8vo.  Lond.  1839. 

Dupin,  de  Disciplina  Ecclesiastica.  4to.  Par.  1691. 

Echard,  Laurence,  History  of  England,  fol.  Lond.  1707-18. 

Elias  Levita,  Thisbites,  Hebr.  Lat.  per  Paulum  Fagium.  4to.  Bas.  1601. 

Eliezer,  R.  Pirke,  sive  Capitula  Patrum,  Hebr.  Lat.  per  G.  H.  Vorstium,  4to, 

Lugd.  Bat.  1644. 
Epictetus,  Opp.  8vo.  Lond.  1670. 
Epiphanius,  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1622. 
Erasmus,  Desiderius,  Opp.  fol.  Lugd.  1 703-6. 
Espencseus,  Claudius,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1619. 
Estius,  Guil.,  in  Epist.  S.  Pauli.  fol.  Col.  Agr.  1631. 
Eunapius,  Vitee  Philosophorum.  8vo.  Amst.  1822. 
Eusebius  Emissenus,  HomiUse,  in  Max.  Bibl.  Vet.  Patr. 

  Nicomediensis,  Hist.  Eccles.  cum  vita  Constantini.  fol.  Cant.  1720. 

 Demonstratio  Evangelica.  fol.  Col.  1688. 

    Prseparatio  Evangelica.  fol.  Col.  1688. 

    in  Cantica,  una  cum  Polychron.  ed.  J.  Meursii.  4to.  Lond.  1617. 

Euthymius,  Commentaria  in  Evangelia.  8vo.  Lips.  1792. 
Field,  R.,  Of  the  Church.  8vo.  Cant.  1847-52. 

Fischer,  Opp.  fol.  Wiceb.  1597. 

Fortunatus,  Venantius,  Opp.  4to.  Rom.  1786. 

Foulis,  History  of  Plots,  &c.  fol.  Lond.  1662. 

Foxe,  Acts  and  Monuments  of  the  Church,  fol.  Lond.  1838. 

FuUer,  Church  History.  8vo.  Lond.  1837. 

Ganz,  David,  Tzemach,  sive  Chronologia  Judaica.  4to.  Lugd.  Bat.  1644. 

Garzoni,  Tommaso,  Opere.  4to.  Ven.  161 7.  Hospitale  dei  Pazzi  incurabile.  8vo. 

Gassendus,  Opp.  fol.  Lugd.  1658. 

Gaulmyn,  Annot.  in  Vit.  Mosis.  8vo.  Hamb.  1714. 

Genebrardus,  Chronologia.  fol.  Lugd.  Bat.  1603. 

  in  Psalmos  Commentarius.  8vo.  Lugd.  Bat.  1600. 

Gilbertus,  Gulielmus,  de  Magnete.  4to.  Sidin.  1693. 
Goldastus,  Monarchia  Sacri  Imperii  Romani.  fol.  Franc.  1614. 
Gratianus,  Decretum.  fol.  Par.  1612. 

1  2 


clxiv 


Lint  of  Editions. 


Gregorius  Ariminensis,  Commentarius  in  Sent.  fol.  Ven.  150.V 

 Nazianzenus,  S.  Opp.,  ed.  Bon.  fol.  Par.  1778-1840. 

  et  cum  Schol.  Elise  Cretensis.  fol.  Par.  1630. 

  Neofsesarionsis,  sive  Thauniaturgua,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1C22. 

  Nyssenus,  S.  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1638. 

  I.  Papa,  S.,  Opp.  ed.  Ben.  fol.  Par.  1705. 

  Tholosanus,  Syntaxeon  artis  mirabilis.  i2mo.  Lugd.  Bat.  i.sSi. 

  de  Valentia,  Commentarius  in  Sent.  fol.  Lugd.  1619. 

Grotius,  Opp.  Tbeol.  fol.  Lond.  1679. 

 EpistolEe  ad  Gallos.  iimo.  Lugd.  Bat.  1650. 

Guillaudus,  Commentarius  in  Epist.  S.  Pauli.  8vo.  Par.  1.5.50. 

Hale,  Sir  Matthew,  Works.  8vo.  Lond.  1805. 
Hall,  Joseph,  Works,  fol.  Lond.  1648. 
Hammond,  H.,  Works,  fol.  Lond.  1774. 

  Annotations  on  the  New  Testament.  8vo.  Oxon.  1845. 

Hansiz,  Germania  Sacra,  fol.  August.  Vindel.  1727. 
Heliodorus,  ./Ethiop.  8vo.  Franc.  1631. 

Henry  of  Huntingdon,  inter  Scriptores  post  Bedara.  fol.  Lond.  1696. 
Hesiodus,  Opp.,  cum  Scholiis  J.  Tzetzse  et  aliorum.  8vo.  Lips.  1823. 
Heylin,  Peter,  History  of  the  Presbyterians,  fol.  Lond.  1672. 

  History  of  the  Reformation.  8vo.  Cant.  1849. 

  Two  Journies  into  France.  4to.  Lond.  1656. 

  Cyprianus  Anglicus,  the  Life  of  William  Laud,  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 

fol.  Lond.  1 67 1. 
Hickes,  Bibliotheca  scriptorum  Anglicorum.  8vo.  Lond.  1709. 
Hierocles,  Commentarius  in  aureum  carmen  Pythagorse.  8vo.  Cant.  1709. 
Hieronymus,  S.,  Opp.,  ed.  Vallarsi.  fol.  Veron.  1734-42. 
Hilarius,  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  Ven.  1730. 
Hippocrates,  Opp.,  ed.  Kiihn.  8vo.  Lips.  1825-27. 

Holcot,  Robertus,  Commentainus  in  Librum  Sapientise.  fol.   1.586. 

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Homilies,  Book  of.  8vo.  Oxon.  1840. 

Hooker,  Richard,  Works.  8vo.  Oxon.  1841. 

Hulsius,  Antonius,  Theologia  Judaica.  4to.  Bredse,  1653. 

Husband,  Edward,  Collection  of  Ordinances,  &c.  of  Parliament,  fol.  Lond.  1646. 
Jackson,  Thomas,  Works.  8vo.  Oxon.  1841. 

Jamblichus,  Vita  Pythagorse,  de  Abstinentia  ab  usu  Animalium,  &c.  4to.  Amst. 
1707. 

Jansenius,  in  Concordiam  Evangelicam.  fol.  Lovan.  1672. 

Ignatius,  S.,  Opera,  inter  Patres  Apostolicos,  q.  v. 

Innocentius,  Papa  III.  Opera,  fol.  Colon.  1575. 

Joseph,  R.  Ben  Gorion,  Historia  Judaica.  4to.  Gothse  et  Lips.  1740. 

Josephus,  Opp.  fol.  Oxon.  1720. 

Irenseus,  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Ven.  1734. 

Isidorus  Hispalensia,  Opp.  4to.  Rom.  i  797-1803. 

  Pelusiota,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1638. 

Isocrates,  Orationes,  inter  Oratores  Atticos.  8vo.  Oxon.  1822. 
•lulianus.  Imp.,  Opp.  fol.  ed.  Spanheim,  Lips.  1696. 
Junius,  Franciscus,  Opp.  fol.  Gen.  1613. 


List  of  Editions. 


clxv 


Justinus  Martyr,  0pp.  fol.  Par.  1 742. 
Juvenalis,  Satyrse.  8vo.  Lonil.  1835. 

Knighton,  Henry,  Chronicle,  in  Twysden's  Historiie  Anglicanse  Scriplorcs.  fol. 
Lend.  1652. 

Lactantius,  0pp.  4to.  Par.  i  748. 

Laud,  Wilham,  Works.  8vo.  Oxford,  1847-56. 

Launoy,  John,  Opp.  fol.  Colon.  1731. 

Le  Neve,  Fasti  Eccl.  Angl.  Svo.  Oxon.  1854. 

Leo,  Papa  L  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Ven.  1753. 

Libanius,  Orationes.  fol.  Par.  1606. 

Lightfoot,  John,  Works.  Svo.  Lond.  1825. 

Ijiudanus,  Panoplia  Evangelica.  fol.  Colon.  1560. 

Lipsius,  Justus,  Opp.  8vo.  Vesal.  1675. 

Locman,  fabulte.  8vo.  Lugd.  Bat.  1636. 

Lorinus,  Comment,  in  Acta.  fol.  Col.  Agr.  1609. 

Lucianus,  Opp.  Svo.  Par.  1840. 

Lutherus,  Martinus,  Opp.  fol.  Witeb.  1582. 

Lycophron,  cum  Scholiis  J.  Tzetzse.  4to.  Rom.  1803. 

Lyndwood,  Gulielmus,  Provinciale.  fol.  Oxon.  1679. 

Macarius,  S.,  Opera,  in  Biblioth.  Vet.  Patr.  per  Gallaiidium,  vol.  vii. 
Maldonatus,  Comment,  in  Evang.  fol.  Lugd.  1615. 
Malherbe,  Lettrcs.  i2mo.  Par.  1645. 
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Mairaonides,  R.  Moses,  Canones  Ethici.  4to.  Amst.  1640. 

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Matthieus  Parisiensis,  Opp.  fol.  Lond.  1640. 

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Maxiraus,  S.,  Opp.  in  Max.  Biblioth.  Vet.  Patr.  vol.  vi. 

  Tyrius,  Orationes.  Svo.  Lips.  1774-5. 

Melancthouius,  Opp.  fol.  Witeb.  1601. 

Menasseh  Ben  Israel,  de  Resurrectione  Mortuorum.  Svo.  Amst.  1636. 

Menochius,  Comment,  in  S.  Script,  fol.  Par.  1719. 

3Iilton,  John,  Prose  Works,  by  J.  A.  St.  John.  Svo.  Lond.  1848. 

Montaigne,  CEuvres.  Svo.  Par.  1837. 

Montanus,  Ai-ias.  in  Epist.  S.  Pauh.  4to.  Amst.  15S8. 

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Musculus,  Commentarius  in  Epist.  S.  Pauli  ad  Corinthios.  fol.  Bas.  161 1. 

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Mussus,  Cornelius,  Commentarius  in  Epist.  S.  Pauli  ad  Romanes.    4to.  Ven. 
1588. 

Nauclerus,  Chronicon.  fol.  Tub.  1516. 

Ncal,  Daniel,  History  of  the  Puritans.  Svo.  liond.  1822. 

Nicolaus  Damasccnus,  Historisc,  in  Vlpot'p6ixif.<  'EAA7;i/iK-r;s  0tf)\to6riKT]s,  per  Coraiis. 
Svo.  Par.  1805. 

Niemeyer,  J.,  Harmonia  Confessionum,  (nc.  8\o.  Lips.  1840. 
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clxvi 


List  of  Editions. 


Optatus  Milevitanus,  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1702. 
Oratores  Attici.  8vo.  Oxon.  1822. 
Origenes,  Opp.,  ed.  Ben.  fol.  Par.  1733-59- 
Owen,  John,  Works.  Bvo.  Lend.  1826. 

Pareus,  David,  Opp.  fol.  Franc.  1647. 

Paroemiographi  Graeci,  cura  Gaisford.  8vo.  Oxon.  1836. 

Patres  Apostolici,  ed.  Coteler.  fol.  Ainst.  1724. 

Pererius,  in  Danielem  prophetam  Comraentarius.  8vo.  Lugd.  Bat.  1591. 
Petavius,  Dionysius,  Opus  de  Theologicis  Dogmatibus.  fol.  Ven.  1757- 
Petrarcha,  I'r.,  Opp.  fol.  Bas.  1554. 

Petrus  Martyr,  Commentarius  in  Epist.  Pauli  ad  Corinth,  fol.  Tig.  i,'i79- 

Phavorinus,  Lexicon,  fol.  Ven.  1712. 

Philo  Judseus,  Opp.,  ed.  Mangey.  fol.  Lond.  1742. 

Philostratus,  Opp.  fol.  Lips.  1709. 

Photius,  Bibliotheca.  4to.  ed.  Bekker.  Berol.  1824. 

Pindarus,  Opp.,  cum  Sclioliis  Immanuelis  Boeckh.  4to.  Lips.  1811. 

Plantavitius,  J.,  Florilegium  Rabbinicum.  fol.  Lodov  1644. 

Plato,  Opp.,  ed.  Ficin.  fol.  Franc.  1602. 

Plotinus,  Opp.  4to.  Oxon.  1835. 

Plutarchus,  Opp.,  ed.  Xylandri.  fol.  Par.  1624. 

Pococke,  Edward,  Porta  Mosis.  4to.  Oxon.  1655. 

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Pollux,  Julius,  Onoraasticon.  fol.  Amst.  1706. 

Porphyrins,  Vita  Pythagorse,  &c.  8vo.  Cant.  1655. 

Proclus,  in  Tiinfeum  Platonis  Commentarius.  fol.  Par.  1534. 

Procopius  GazEeus,  in  Esaiam  prophetam  Commentarius.  fol.  Par.  1580. 

Prosper,  S.,  Aquitanicus,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1711. 

Prynne,  Exact  Collection  of  Remonstrances,  &c.  4to.  Lond.  1642. 

Psellus,  Michael,  de  Operibus  Dsemonum.  i2mo.  Kilon,  1688. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  Works.  Bvo.  Lond.  1829. 
Rhegino,  de  Ecclesiastica  Disciplina.  8vo.  Par.  1671. 
Rufinus,  Historia  Ecclesiastica.  fol.  Bas.  1535. 
Rupertus,  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Par.  1638. 
Rushworth's  Collections,  fol.  Lond.  1721. 

Sa,  Emanuel,  Commentarii  in  S.  Biblia.  fol.  Lugd.  1651. 

Sales,  S.  Francis  de,  CEuvres.  8vo.  Par.  1836. 

Salmeron,  Comment,  in  Hist.  Evang.  fol.  Col.  Agr.  1602-4. 

Sanderus,  Nicolaus,  Historia  Schismatis  Anglicani.  8vo.  Col.  Agi.  1628. 

Sanderson,  WiUiam,  History  of  King  Charles  L  fol.  Lond.  1658. 

Sanderson,  Robert,  Works.  8vo.  Oxon.  1854. 

Sarpi,  Paul,  History  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  Angl.,  by  Sir  Nathaniel  Brent,  fol. 
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Sarravius,  Claudius,  Epistolse.  8vo.  Araus.  [654. 
Scaliger,  Jos.  Just.,  Epistolse.  8vo  Francof.  1628. 

 Poemata.  I2m().  Lugd.  Bat.  1615. 

  Jul.  Cajsar,  Epistolie.  Svo.  Hanov.  1612. 

Schefter,  .).,  de  Natura  Philosophia;  ItaUca;.  iimo.  Upsal.  1O64. 


List  of  Editions. 


clxvii 


Scobell,  Edward,  Collection  of  Ordinances,  &c.  of  Parliament,  fol.  Lond.  1658. 

Selden,  John,  Works,  fol.  Lond.  1726. 

Seneca,  L.  Annoeus,  Opp.  8vo.  Amst.  1672. 

Sextus  Empiricus,  Opp.  8vo.  Lips.  1842. 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  Works.  8vo.  Lond.  1724,  5. 

Simplicius,  Commentarius  in  Epict.  8vo.  Lond.  1670. 

Socrates,  Historia  Ecclesiastica.  fol.  Cant.  1725. 

Stobaeus,  Loci  Communes,  cura  Gesneri.  fol.  Franc.  1581. 

  Florilegium,  cura  T.  Gaisford.  8vo.  Oson.  1824. 

Stow,  Chronicle,  fol.  Lond.  1631. 
Suarez,  Opp.  fol.  Ven.  1 740-5 1 . 

Symmachus,  Q.  Aurelius,  Epistolse.  4to.  Mogunt.  1608. 
SynesiuSj  ed.  Petavii.  fol.  Par.  1640. 

Tatianus,  Opp.  in  Bibl.  Patr.  Or.  GaUandii,  vol.  i. 
Taylor,  Jeremy,  Works.  8vo.  Lond.  1847-54. 
Tertullianus,  Opp.,  ed.  fol.  Par.  1675. 
Themistius,  Orationes.  8vo.  Lips.  1832. 
Theodoretus,  Opp.,  ed.  Schultze.  8vo.  Halse,  1769-74. 
Theophanes,  Tauromcnitanus,  Homiliae.  fol.  Par.  1644. 
Theophylactus,  S.,  Opp.  fol.  Ven.  1755. 
Thomdike,  Herbert,  Works.  8vo.  Oxford,  1844. 

  Of  Religious  Assemblies.  8vo.  Lond.  1642. 

  Rights  of  the  Church.  8vo.  Lond.  1649. 

Tostatus,  Alphonsus,  Opp.  fol.  Vol.  1596. 

Turrecremata,  Joh.  de.  Card.,  Siunma  de  Ecclesia.  4to.  Ven.  isbr. 

Vergilius,  Polydorus,  de  Inventoribus  Rerum.  i2mo.  Neom.  1671. 
  Hist.  Angl.  fol.  Bas.  1570. 

Vicecomes,  Josephus,  de  Observatione  Ecclesiastica.  4to.  Mad.  1620. 
Ulpianus,  Commentarius  in  Demosthenem.  fol.  Ven.  1527. 
Voisin,  Josephus  de,  de  Lege  Divina.  8vo.  Par.  1650. 

  de  Jubilseo.  8vo.  Par.  1655. 

Vitringa,  Commentarius  in  Esaiara.  fol.  Leov.  1720. 
Ussher,  James,  Works.  8vo.  Dubhn,  1847. 

Walsingham,  Historise.  fol.  Lond.  1574. 

Walton,  Brian,  Biblia  Polyglotta.  fol.  Lond.  1655-57. 

Whitaker,  Opp.  foL  Aurel.  16 10. 

Wilkins,  David,  Concilia,  fol.  Lond.  1737. 

Zanchius,  Opp.  fol.  Heid.  1613. 
Zuinglius,  Opp.  fol.  Tig.  1 530. 


ADDITIONAL  AND  CORRECTIVE  NOTES. 


VOL.  I. 

P.  II,  note     line  i,  read  "Tliis  is  one." 
P.  65,  last  line,  read  I  Cor.  xi.  24. 
P.  170,  line  10,  read  Diognetus. 
P.  255,  note    read  Matt.  xxi.  44. 

P.  390,  note,  ieiirvov  . .  [An  epigram  on  the  nearly  identical  theme,  Tpdirf^a 
airSvTwv  Toiv  (ptKuf  (pdrvr)  ireAej,  or  Mensa  tniita  prcesepe,  occurs  among  the 
MusEe  Subsecivfe  of  Dr.  James  Duport,  p.  168.] 

VOL.  II. 

P.  54,  note  *>.    [See  Editor's  Preface,  p.  Ixii.] 

P.  541,  note  1',  add  [Conf.  Gemara  Sanhedrin,  cap.  xi.  §  76.  apud  J.  Cocc. 
torn.  ix.  p.  263.] 

Ibid,  note     read  xi.  46. 

P.  608,  in  the  heading  supply  the  word  "  Apostles." 

VOL.  III. 

P.  362,  note  1,  read  John  i.  31. 
P.  401,  note     read  2  Tim.  iv.  8. 
P.  526,  note  ^,  read  Ecclus.  iii.  21. 
P.  527,  note     read  Ecclus.  iii.  25. 
P.  553,  note  ^,  read  ywaLKiiSea. 

VOL.  IV. 

P.  3,  add  to  note  [Sir  H.  Ellis,  in  his  Second  series  of  Original  Letters, 
vol.  i.  p.  256,  has  given  a  letter  from  father  Augustine  Baker  to  sir  Robert 
Cotton  (Cotton  MSS.  in  Brit.  Mus.  Jul.  C.  iii.  fol.  187.),  in  which  he  makes  a 
request  for  books  of  a  devotional  or  contemplative  cast  for  the  use  of  his  sister- 
hood at  Cambridge  ;  and  adds,  "  I  wishe  I  had  Hilton's  Scala  Perfectionis  in 
Latin  :  it  woulde  help  the  understanding  of  the  English  (and  some  of  them 
understande  Latin)."] 

P.  139,  line  33.  .  .  "a  great  restorer  of  learning."  [Bacon,  letter  to  Mat- 
thew, vol.  xii.  p.  93.] 

P.  177,  line  15.  "one  of  the  ancient  guides.  "  add  note  ["  Valde  absurdum  est 
nimia  saturitate  veUe  honorare  martyrem,  quern  scias  Deo  placuisse  jejuniis. 
— Hieron.  Epist.  xxxi.  torn.  i.  col.  149  E.] 


Additional  and  Corrective  Notes. 


clxix 


P.  i8o.  lin.  penult.,  read  "arts  men." 
P.  334,  note     line  5,  read  "Paula  and" 

P.  433,  line  17.  "the  poor  Norwegian."  [Balzac,  letters  by  sir  R.  Baker, 
p.  3'-] 

P.  435,  note  a.  [The  discourse  alluded  to  ia  The  Glorious  Epiphany,  vol.  iii. 
pp.  347-492.] 

P.  725,  note     read  Acts  ii.  41,  42. 
P.  764,  note,  line  6,  read  1555. 

VOL.  V. 

P.  38,  line  15,  read  PriEsentes. 

P.  169,  line  10.  "follow  Providence  against  a  precept,"  ..    [See  Gauden'a 
Ecclesiae  Anglicanse  Suspiria,  p.  133.] 
P.  230,  note  7,  read  "  JEh.  Lamprid." 

P.  285,  note  «,  col.  2.  10.  "  A  letter"  . . .    [This  letter  is  printed  in  the  pre- 
face to  the  collected  edition  of  Bridge's  Works.] 
P.  318,  note  j,  line  13,  read  Feb.  164^. 

P.  348,  line  13.  "  bibble-babble."  [This  sarcastic  comparison  was  not  con- 
fined to  the  puritanic  side  of  the  controversy.  In  a  broad  sheet  containing 
Cartwright's  six  articles  with  Scripture  proofs,  bound  up  with  a  volume  of 
Mar  Prelate  libels,  in  the  library  of  Lambeth  Palace,  are  "  Certaine  minorall 
and  metaphysical  school  pointes  to  be  defended  by  the  reverende  bishops,"  &c., 
of  which  the  eighth  is — 

8.  "That  the  long  prayers  of  the  Puritans  before  and  after  their  sermons  are 
nothing  but  beeble-bable,  beeble-bable." 

"  The  defendant  in  this  point  is  father  John  of  Fulham,  in  M.  Cawdrie's  Ex- 
amination."   The  phrase  is  also  found  in  Shakspeare.] 

P.  348.  "  Porridge."  add  note.  ["  There  hath  been  a  disturbance  in  a  church 
in  Friday  St.  ;  a  great  many  young  people  knotting  together  and  crying  out 
'  Porridge  I '  often  and  seditiously  in  the  church  ;  and  they  took  the  Common 
Prayer  Book,  they  say,  awaj',  and  some  say,  did  tear  it." — Pepys'  Diary, 
Aug.  24,  1662.    Compare  lord  Braybrooke's  note.] 

P.  363,  line  23,  read  "N.  C." 

P.  507.  "as  one  doth  on  another  occasion  to  his  countrymen."  [Balzac  to 
Hyda.spe,  Baker's  translation,  p.  134.] 

P.  633,  note  y,  col.  2,  line  4,  for  "  Plut."  read  "  Plat." 

Ibid.  col.  I,  line  15,  read  "  1566." 

P.  682,  line  27,  read  "  ever  in." 

P.  683,  line  23,  read  "  Church  of  God." 

VOL.  VI. 

P.  32,  note  '',  col.  2,  lino  10,  read  Girald. 

P.  112,  note*,  add  [These  propositions  were  printed  at  length  under  the 
title  of  "Two  papers  of  proposals  concerning  the  Discipline  and  ceremonies  of 
the  Church  of  England,  humbly  presented  to  his  majesty  by  the  rev.  ministers 
of  the  presbyterian  persuasion.    London,  printed  in  the  year  1661."] 

P.  185,  line  16,  read  "children." 


clxx 


Additional  and  Corrective  Notes. 


P.  211,  note     read  "  William  Sedgwick." 
P.  327,  note     read  James  ii.  13. 

P.  441,  line  35,  dele  the  comma  at  the  end  of  the  line. 
P.  451,  note  B,  read  Ecclus.  xi.  7. 
P.  456,  line  23,  dele  I. 

P.  578,  line  29.  "He  that  repeats,"  &c.  [Plantavit.  Floril.  Rabbin.  §  109, 
p.  17.] 

VOL.  VII. 

P.  125,  note    read  Tit.  ii.  12. 

P.  253,  note    line  5,  and  P.  255,  note  ^,  line  2,  for  Eccles.  read  Ecclus. 
P.  288,  line  19,  read  Possevine. 

Ibid,  line  23,  transfer  the  reference  letter  °  to  '  Basil '  in  the  next  line. 

P.  307,  line  23,  read  James  v.  14. 

P.  316,  line  8,  read  Hebr.  xi.  39,  40. 

P.  317,  note  y,  read  1  Pet.  iii.  19. 

P.  448,  note  P,  read  [Ps.  xi.  7  ;  xviii.  25,  &c. 

P.  569,  note  \  read  [P.  361  A.] 

P.  573,  note  y,  read  [Col.  i.  28,  29.] 

P.  613,  note     col.  2,  line  2,  for  the  read  and. 


VOL.  VIII. 

P.  143,  Une  37,  . .  ."For  truth  is  great  and  will  prevail."  add  note  [Magna 
est  Veritas  et  praevalet,  is  the  Vulgate  version  of  3  Esdr.  iv.  41.] 
P.  172,  note     for"0  read'Oi. 
P.  292,  note     read  i(rxi'p($Tepo«'. 
P.  3 1 5,  note  >>,  for  Cyr.  read  Gr. 

P. 629,  note",  add  [Of  the  numerous  discourses  on  this  memorable  storm 
which  have  come  down,  the  most  noteworthy  is  one  by  Joseph  Hussey,  M.  A., 
replete  with  the  most  copious  and  fanciful  stores  of  learning.  Talbot  bishop 
of  Oxford  preached  on  the  fest-day  appointed  for  its  commemoration  before  the 
house  of  lords.] 

VOL.  IX. 

P.  303,  line  6,  read  chap.  ii.  18. 

P.  356,  line  29,  /or  juro  read  jure. 

P.  415,  note  ^,  line  antepen.,  read  Cantabrigiensis. 

P.  422,  note  s,  line  antepen.,  for  his  read  his  son's. 

P.  423,  line  19,  .  . .'  imposition  of  their  hands,'. .  .  add  note — 

[The  certificate  of  orders  accorded  to  Patrick  on  this  occasion,  a  printed  form 
on  vellum,  filled  up  ^\-ith  the  names,  dates,  &c.,  is  preserved  among  the  Tanner 
papers  in  the  Bodleian  library. 

"Forasmuch  as  Mr.  Simon  Patricke,  M'  of  Arts,  hath  addressed  himself  to 
tlie  first  Classical  Presbytery  within  the  Province  of  London,  according  to  the 
Ordinance  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament  of  Aug.  28, 1646,  '  For  the  Ordination 


Additional  and  Corrective  Notes. 


clxxi 


of  MinieterB  by  the  Classical  Presbyters,'  desiring  to  be  Ordained  a  Preaching 
Presbyter,  for  that  he  is  called  to  the  work  of  the  Ministry  as  fellow  of  Queen's 
Coll.  in  Cambridge  :  and  hath  exliibited  into  the  Presbytery  sufficient  Testi- 
moniall  (now  remaining  in  their  custody)  of  his  competent  age,  of  his  unblame- 
able  life  and  conversation,  of  his  diligence  and  proficiency  in  his  studies,  and  of 
his  fair  and  direct  calling  unto  the  forementioned  place  : — We  the  Ministers  of 
the  said  Presbytery,  have  (by  appointment  thereof)  Examined  him  according 
to  the  Tenour  of  the  said  Ordinance,  and  finding  him  to  be  duely  qualified  and 
guifted  for  that  holy  Office  and  imployment  (no  just  Exception  being  made 
against  his  Ordination  or  Admission)  we  have  Approved  him  ;  and  accordingly 
in  the  Church  of  Albanus,  Wood  Street,  in  London,  upon  the  day  and  year 
hereafter  expressed,  we  have  proceeded  solemnly  to  set  him  apart  to  the  Office 
of  a  Preaching  Presbyter,  and  work  of  the  Ministry,  with  Fasting,  Prayer,  and 
Imposition  of  hands  :  and  do  hereby  (so  farre  as  concerneth  us)  actually  Admit 
him  unto  the  said  Charge,  there  to  perform  all  the  Offices  and  duties  of  a  faith- 
full  Minister  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  witness  whereof  we  have  hereunto  subscribed 
our  Names  this  8th  day  of  Aprill,  Anno  Dom.,  1653. 

"  Simeon  Ashe.       Edm.  Calamy. 
George  Smalwood.       Tho.  Case. 
John  Wels.       Samuel  Balmford." — 

—Tanner  MSS.  52,  fol.  6.] 

P.  4+2,  note  ^,  line  19,  read  as  "a  noble. 
P.  450,  note     line  3,  read  1668. 

P.  460,  note  y,  col.  I,  lin.  penult.,  "Stockport."  [This  seems  to  be  a  mistake 
of  Sir  Bernard  Burke's  for  Stockbridge.  See  Carlyle's  Cromwell,  ii.  105  ;  Browne 
Willis,  Not.  Pari.  iv.  235,  249,  283.  Ludlow,  however,  in  his  Memoirs,  p.  246, 
and  the  writer  of  an  anonymous  royalist  tract  in  the  Harleian  Miscellany,  iii. 
464,  include  Col.  Jephson  among  the  Irish  members.  The  latter,  who  sat  for 
Cork  and  Youghall,  was  more  probably  the  son  of  the  member  for  Stockbridge. 
According  to  Parker  he  was  hanged  for  rebeUion  in  Ireland. — Parker's  Own 
Time,  p.  71.] 

P.  461,  lin.  ult.,  "a  paper  in  this  form."  [In  the  MSS.  in  the  Lambeth  library 
(982,  fol.  65)  is  a  similar  vow  of  chastity  taken  by  a  daughter  of  Sir  Patrick 
Bellew,  Sept.  27,  1693.] 

P. 475,  line  27,  ...'about  this  time.'...  [In  the  year  1680  Patrick  offi- 
ciated at  the  interment  of  Samuel  Butler,  the  author  of  Hudibras,  which  took 
place  at  St.  Paul's,  Covent  Garden. — See  Baldwyn's  edition  of  Hudibras,  vol.  i. 
p.  9.  note.  8vo.  18 19.] 

P.  495,  line  21,  ...'ink  mixed  with  the  Sacramental  wine.'. . .  [This  cere- 
mony was  observed  by  pope  Theodore,  in  signing  the  deposition  of  Pyrrhus. — 
Baron.,  A.D.  648.  §  14.  Also  in  the  case  of  Photius,  deposed  at  Constanti- 
nople, A.D.  870. — Fleury,  li.  §  46  ;  and  in  the  treaty  of  peace  between  Charles 
the  bald  and  Bernard  count  of  Toulouse.— See  Larroque,  Hist,  de  I'Eucharistie, 
Du  Pin,&c.,  N.  and  Q.,  2  S.  iii.  438,  and  Bemino,  HLst.  de  tutte  le  heresie,  ii. 
236,  quoted  in  Southey's  Common  Place  Book,  iii.  424.] 

P.  517,  note  m,  line  17,  . .  .'Bodleian  Library.'  add  [A  copy  of  the  same  bill 
in  MS.,  as  modified  on  its  second  introduction,  and  endorsed,  "per  M.Hum- 
phrey, Oct.  1696,"  is  preserved  among  the  MSS.  in  the  Lambeth  library  (930, 
f.  .65.)] 


clxxii 


Additional  and  Corrective  Notes. 


P.  567,  note     line  5,  fur  Lewis  read  Lawrence. 
P.  569,  note     line  Sj  for  summer  read  spring. 

Ibid.,  note  ^,  lin.  iilt.,  . . .  Moore,  add  [The  positive  decLaration  of  Dr.  Knight, 
who  assigns  this  epitaph  to  bishop  3Ioore,  has  been  preferred  to  the  doubtful 
statement  of  the  Biographia  Britannica,  in  which  it  is  said  to  have  been  written 
by  Dr.  Long,  bishop  of  Norwich.] 

P.  584,  line  30,  . .  .'forerunner  of  the  plague.'.  .  [Patrick  was  fond  of  specula- 
tions of  this  nature.  Samuel  Hartlib,  a  common  friend,  had  written  both  to 
liim  and  Worthington,  Aug.  10,  1661,  an  account  of  a  singular  epidemic  ac- 
companied or  caused  by  multitudes  of  minute  animalcules  or  worms.  His 
report  had  been  obtained  from  Mr.  Beal,  a  naturalist  of  great  sagacity,  of 
Yeovil  in  Somersetshire,  Ln  which  county  the  distemper  had  been  very  preva- 
lent, and  had  attacked  his  three  daughters,  being  looked  upon  as  a  prognostic 
of  the  plague. 

Kennet  quotes  an  extract  from  another  letter  of  Hartlib  to  the  same,  dated 
Aug.  24,  1 66 1.  "The  former  passages  which  I  wrote  unto  you  in  my  last  out 
of  Mr.  Beal's  letter  I  sent  likewise  to  worthy  Mr.  Patrick,  who  writes  in  his 
last,  'I  thank  you  for  communicating  to  me  Mr.  Beal's  letter.  I  remember  Kir- 
clier  in  his  book  de  Peste  saith  that  in  pestilential  diseases  he  hath  found  the 
blood  and  tumours  (when  there  were  any)  full  of  worms.'  " — Keg.  p.  871.] 

P.  597,  line  5,  for  nearly  read  newly. 


AQUA  GENITALIS: 


A  DISCOUUSE 

CONCERNING 

BAPTISM. 

First  delivered  in  a  Sermon  at  Alhallows,  Lombard  Street, 
Octob.  4,  1658,  and  now  a  little  enlarged. 

Into  which  is  since  inserted  a  Brief  Discourse  to  persuade  to  a 
Confirmation  of  the  Baptismal  Vow. 

Nl^ov  avofirifxa  i^r]  [jLovav  oxj/iv. 

"  Circumcision  is  that  of  the  hewrt,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in 
tlie  letter." — Rom.  ii.  29. 


READER, 


READER, 

It  is  not  needful  to  detain  thee  with  many  words  about  the  matter 
or  author  of  this  treatise.  The  matter  I  am  sure  will  commend  itself 
to  thee,  if  thou  wilt  be  pleased  seriously  and  impartially  to  read  and 
consider  it.  And  as  for  the  author,  I  must  not,  without  displeasing' 
him,  say  anything  of  him,  but  only  give  thee  the  true  reason  of  the 
publication  of  this  discourse ;  which  I  dare  afBrni  on  my  credit  is 
not  from  any  itching  desire  to  appear  in  print ;  and  I  believe,  none 
that  know  him  but  will  bear  witness  with  me  in  his  behalf.  The  sub- 
stance of  it  was  at  my  earnest  entreaty  first  preached,  and  afterwards, 
for  mine  and  the  satisfaction  of  some  other  friends,  transcribed  : 
and  because  I  would  not  give  him  the  trouble  of  transcribing  so 
many  copies  as  were  desired,  and  he  not  judging  it  safe  to  give 
liberty  to  other  copies  that  were  not  writ  by  himself ;  and  I,  to- 
gether with  others,  judging  it  of  singular  use  for  the  begetting  of 
right  apprehensions  of  baptism  in  these  days  of  so  much  contest ;  I 
made  it  my  further  request  it  might  be  printed,  and  with  his  leave 
have  now  sent  it  abroad,  which  I  could  not  in  civility  do,  without 
this  acknowledgment  of  the  higher  honour  he  hath  done  me  herein, 
which  I  doubt  not  but  will  prove  as  real  a  service  to  thee  and  the 
truth.  Whatever  advantage  thou  shalt  reap  from  it,  ascribe  the 
praise  to  God,  and  look  upon  thyself  as  concerned  to  pray  for  the 
author ;  and  let  him  also  have  a  share  in  thy  prayers,  who  hath  been 
an  occasion  of  so  great  a  good  unto  thee,  and  is 

Thy  servant  in  the  Lord, 
E.  V[aughan  a.] 


»  [A  minister  in  Lombard  Street,  at 
whose  request  the  Sermon  was  preached 
and  pubhslied :  see  Bishop  Patrick's 
Autobiography.    He  was  probably  a 


nonconformist ;  since  his  name  does 
not  occur  in  the  register  of  the  bishop 
of  London,  on  which  Newcoiut  based 
his  account  of  the  metropolitan  clergy.] 


PATRICK,  VOL.  I. 


B 


THE  PREFACE. 


I.  All  things  coming  from  one  Fountain  and  Father  of  being, 
there  must  needs  be  some  marks  and  characters  of  himself  upon  the 
face  of  every  one  of  them,  and  they  cannot  but  have  some  cognation 
vyith  and  resemblance  of  each  other,  as  things  that  proceed  out  of 
the  same  womb  of  the  eternal  Goodness.  Material  beings  and  spi- 
ritual one  would  think  were  at  the  greatest  distance,  and  yet  they 
challenge  a  kindred  one  with  the  other ;  and  there  are  lines  and 
strokes  in  these  outward  shapes  that  express  something  of  those 
internal  and  invisible  beauties.  All  this  world  below  is  but  the  image 
of  the  world  above ;  and  these  corporeal  things  are  but  pictures 
(though  pale  indeed,  and  dull)  of  things  spiritual ;  as  the  tabernacle 
of  God  among  his  ancient  people  may  inform  us.  For  as  some 
modern  philosophers  call  the  loadstone  a  terrella  or  '  little  earth'',' 
which  draws  similar  bodies  into  its  embraces  ;  so  Philoc  somewhere 


b  ["  Sphsericam  in  figuram  magnes 
adaptatus,  formamque  arte  orbicula- 
rem  nactus,  vere  est  genuina  ejusdem- 
que  figurae  telluris  soboles ;  quam 
communi  matri  telluri  natura  a  pritnor- 
diis  concessit :  estque  physicum  cor- 
pusculum  excellentissimis  virtutibus 
imbutum ;  et  non  male  cum  Gilberto 
HtKpdyri,  seu  terrella,  vel  parva  terra 
dici  potest." — Kircher,  de  Magnete, 
lib.  i.  part  2.  prop.  lo.  p.  57. 

"Appcllatur  hie  lapis  rotundus  a 
nobis  iiiKp6yri,  seu  terrella." — Guil. 
Gilbert,  de  Magnete,  lib.  i.  cap.  4. 
p.  14.  4to,  Sidin.  1633. 

In  Gregory's  Notes  upon  some  pas- 
sages of  Scripture,  chap.  12,  an  account 
is  given  of  "  experiences  made  upon 
the  terrella  or  little  earth  of  loadstone," 
&c. — Works,  p.  56. 

The  terrella  or  orbicular  magnet  con- 
structed by  sir  C.  Wren  still  forms  part 
of  the  collection  of  the  Royal  Society. 
See  Grew's  Rarities  belonging  to  the 
Royal  Society,  p.  364.] 

c  [Bpaxuj  Kda-fios, — Philo  de  Mose, 
lib.  iii.  torn.  ii.  p.  155. 

The  analogous  idea  as  to  the  relation 
subsisting  between  the  natui-e  of  man 


and  the  system  of  the  universe  entered 
into  the  Pythagorean  and  other  sys- 
tems of  philosophy. — 'O  &vdpwitos  fxi- 
Kphs  k6(Tixos  \fyerat,  ovx  'dri  4k  tSiv 
T«y<xapiav  arotx^'ioov  avyKUTai  (tovto 
■yap  Kal  (Kaarov  ruv  ^wuiv,  zeal  ru>v  (h- 
TfAeiTTaTdJc,)  dAV  on  iraaras  exei  ras 

rov    nianov    Zwdfieis  Vit.  Pythag. 

anon,  apud  Phot.  Biblioth.  cod.  249. 
p.  440.  The  later  Platonists  and 
Christian  wTiters  of  the  mystic  school 
frequently  speak  of  man  as  the  micro- 
cosm, his  soul  being  informed  by  the 
divine  mind,  and  his  body  constituted 
of  the  four  elements.  So  Philo  de 
Plant.  Noe,  cap.  7.  tom.  i.  p.  334 ;  de 
Mund.  Opif.,  cap.  51.  tom.  i.  p.  35; 
Proclus  in  Timseum,  p.  i  r.  C. 

Tlapa  Twv  a6<pu>v  jxiicpds  Tij  flvai  k6<t- 
fios  6  avdptinxoi  Kiyerai,  ravra  irfpiex^" 
iv  fOUTo!  TO  (TToixti^n,  ofs  rh  irav  crv/jLire- 
vK-fipuTat. — Greg.  Nyss.de  Anim.  et  Rc- 
surr.  torn.  iii.  p.  188.  2vi'Sf(Tnos  yap  rts 
&>v  Kal  (uixvpov  (piKlas  irauTos  rov  icSfffiov 
&  avSpuTTos,  (I;  audyKfji  irduTa  ra  irpoei- 
p-qfieva  irepif'^ci  Kara  Tu  a.  avaXoyiav  (v 
yap  ftpriTai  irapa  roh  e^w,  MiKphs  kSct/xos 

4    dvOpwiros  Cosnias  Iiidicopleustes, 

Christian.  Opin.  de  Mundo,  lib.  vii. 

B  2 


4 


PREFACE. 


calls  the  tabernacle  a  '  little  world,'  a  small  image  of  the  whole  uni- 
verse, (the  most  holy  resembling  the  highest  heavens  ;  the  holy 
place  the  upper  regions  where  the  lights  of  the  world  are  placed, 
and  where  God  hath  set  a  tabernacle  for  the  sun ;  and  the  outward 
court  the  lower  parts  and  skirts,  as  we  call  them,  of  this  world,) 
whereby  God  would  show  that  he  could  not  dwell  in  houses  made 
with  hands,  but  that  the  whole  world  was  his  temple,  the  souls  of 
men  his  altars,  love  his  holy  fire,  and  all  men  his  sacrifices.  And  so 
the  apostle calls  it  ayiov  Koa-fiiKov,  a  worldly  sanctuary,  perhaps  in 
this  sense  that  I  have  mentioned.  Now  the  same  apostle  after- 
wards tells  us  ^,  that  this  tabernacle  and  appurtenances  were  Itto- 
bfiyfiara  and  avrirvTra,  patterns  axid  fgures  or  copies  of  things  in  the 
heavens ;  and  so  doth  the  whole  Scripture  draw  representations  and 
images  of  the  other  world,  and  things  to  come,  from  the  sun,  the 
stars,  the  light,  the  feasts,  and  such  hke  things  that  are  in  this 
wherein  we  inhabit. 

2.  Man  is  made  bv  God  crvyyevrjs  tcov  fivo  Koa-ficnv,  as  one  speaks, 
'  of  kin  to  two  worlds,'  the  knot  as  it  were  that  ties  them  both  to- 
gether, or  the  button  that  fastens  them  one  to  the  other^  He  lives 
in  the  confines  of  each,  and  with  his  mind  is  capable  to  look  into  the 
world  of  souls  and  spirits,  and  with  his  body  he  converses  with  these 
material  images.  God  therefore  hath  thought  fit  to  teach  his  mind 
the  things  of  the  one  by  the  ministry  of  his  bodily  senses,  which 
have  acquaintance  only  with  the  other.  And  besides  the  whole  book 
of  the  creatures,  (every  letter  of  which  is  full  of  God,)  he  hath 
always  given  man  some  special  lessons  and  documents  by  outward 
characters,  which  he  hath  more  industriously  cut  and  engraven  to 
impress  his  mind  with  spiritual  notions.  For  though  man  be  iv  fit- 
Oopiia  as  I  said,  '  in  the  confines'  of  both  worlds,  yet  he  is  bred 
up  among  sensible  creatures,  and  contracts  acquaintance  here,  before 
his  soul  is  grown  so  high  as  to  take  any  notice  of  things  above  ;  and 
therefore  he  being  most  afi'ected  with  the  body's  companions,  it  is 

Montfaucon,  Collect,  nov.  patr.  Grsec.  J.  E.  B.  Mayor,  p.  239.] 

torn.  iii.  p.  289  A.  <1  Heb.  is.  i.          e  lb.  23,  24. 

itpav  iv  rrj  KaV  tavrhv  (pvfffi  t^i  f  Fibula  utriusque  ravmdi.    [So  Ter- 

■KaaTis  KTicrews  rrjv  uKova,  5i' o  koX  fit-  tullian, — "  Homo  .  .  consertarum  sub- 

Kphs  K6(Tfxos  elpriTai. — Nemes.  de  Nat.  stantiarum  duarum  quodammodo  fibula 

Horn.  cap.  i.  torn.  ii.  p.  475  C.    Bibl.  est." — De  Resurr.  Cam.  cap.  40.  p-349. 

vet.  patr.  Graec.  fol.  Par.  1624.    Conf.  ^wSeir/nos  irdtrris  KTlcr«vs, — Cosmas  In- 

Max.  de  Eccl.  Myst.  cap.  7.  ibid.  p.  180.  dicopleustes,  ut  supra,  lib.  v.  p.  210  E  j 

S.  Gregory  Xazianzen  speaks  of  man  et  lib.  iii.  p.  172  E.] 

as  KSct/jlos '4t(pos  if  i^iKpf /xtyas, — Orat.  S  \^Ev  fj.f8oplois  aiaB^TTjS  koI  votjttji 

xlv.  §.  7.  torn.  i.  p.  850  A.  oua-i'oj. — Nemes.  de  Nat.  Horn.  cap.  r. 

See  also  the  authorities  quoted  in  the  torn.  ii.  p.  497  A.   Bibl.  Vet.  Patr.  Gr. 

Life  of  Nicholas  Ferrar,  by  the  Rev.  fol.  Par.  1624.] 


PREFACE. 


5 


the  singular  care  and  providence  of  God  to  teach  him  by  such  things 
as  are  most  familiar  to  him,  which  he  hath  done  in  all  ages  of  the 
world.  It  was  a  custom  among  the  ancients  (as  they  report)  before 
the  knowledge  of  letters  and  writings,  to  sing  their  laws,  lest  they 
should  forget  them,  which  was  in  use  among  some  people  near  to 
Scythia  in  the  days  of  Aristotle'^.  And  this  is  one  reason  why  the 
Psalms  are  in  verse,  because  they  would  be  the  better  remembered, 
and  more  safely  reposited,  being  a  magazine  of  spiritual  learning. 
They  knew  vei-y  well  that  what  affects  the  senses  and  runs  smoothly 
is  most  regarded ;  and  we  ourselves  still  experience  that  rhythms 
which  make  a  pretty  noise  or  jingle  are  sooner  fixed  in  people's 
minds  than  words  in  prose.  Seeing  then  that  outward  things  do  so 
notably  teach  us,  and  the  more  any  thing  solicits  any  of  our  senses 
the  more  acceptable  it  is  unto  us,  God  hath  been  pleased  so  to  deal 
with  man  that  he  shall  not  want  such  lessons. 

3.  This  matter  of  discipline  may  be  deduced  from  the  first  Adam 
to  the  second.  For  God  placed  the  first  man  in  a  paradise,  a  fair 
and  beautiful  garden  abounding  with  all  manner  of  fruits,  &c. 
which  was  but  a  type  of  the  celestial  paradise  above,  that  is  watered 
with  streams  of  light  from  the  face  of  God,  and  rivers  of  pleasures 
from  his  love,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  Son  of  God  is  the  tree  of 
life.  An  image,  I  say,  God  gave  him  of  heaven,  but  none  as  yet  of 
hell,  because  man  was  made  to  be  happy.  So  God  likewise  gave 
him  a  commandment  (the  matter  of  which  was  outward  and  sensible) 
of  abstaining  from  one  tree  in  the  garden ;  which  was  but  a  docu- 
ment of  the  subjection  he  did  owe  to  his  Creator,  and  of  the  tenure 
whereby  he  held  all  his  enjoyments.  After  his  disobedience,  men 
were  some  way  or  other  directed  by  him  to  make  offerings  to  God 
of  their  beasts  and  fruits  as  acknowledgments  of  their  dependence 
and  homage,  and  adumbrations  of  the  sacrifice  of  that  seed  that  was 
newly  promised.  In  process  of  time,  when  obedience  grew  cold,  and 
their  thoughts  (it  is  like)  of  another  life  but  dull,  God  took  Enoch  to 
himself  when  he  was  but  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  years  old,  to 
teach  them  by  themselves,  as  well  as  other  things,  that  there  was 
another  life,  and  a  reward  that  remained  for  those  that  walked  with 
God,  which  was  better  than  the  longest  term  of  years  in  these 
earthly  possessions.  But  wickedness  still  increasing,  God  destroyed 
the  world  by  a  deluge  of  water ;  which  was  but  a  shadow  of  the 
dreadful  showers  of  wrath,  the  streams  of  fire  and  brimstone,  that 

^  [Aia  rl  v6ixoi  KaXovvrai  o&s  &h»v-     wcvep  iv  ^ hyaQvpaois  en  tiuidaaiV ; — 
aiv;  *H  3ti  Ttpiv  itriaTaaBai  ypafjiixara,     Aristot.  Problem,  xix.  29.] 
^5oy  Toiis  ySfiovs,  Sirwi  ixi)  iviKdBuvTai, 


6 


PREFACE. 


should  fall  upon  the  heads  of  the  wicked  in  the  other  life,  whereby 
God  would  terrify  the  new  planters  of  the  world,  and  give  them  an 
image  of  hell,  as  he  had  done  before  of  heaven.  But  this  was  not  a 
lasting  visible  monument  of  God's  anger,  and  therefore  in  after-times 
Sodom  and  Gomoj-rha  and  the  cities  about  them  were  set  forth  for  an  ex- 
ample, suffering  the  vengeance  of  an  eternal  fire^ ;  which  places  lay  just 
in  the  view  and  under  the  eye  of  that  people  whom  God  made  pecu- 
liar to  himself,  and  served  as  continual  marks  of  his  displeasure,  and 
instances  of  his  wrath,  to  make  them  for  ever  to  beware.  That  pecu- 
liar people  God  separated  to  himself  by  the  sign  of  circumcision,  the 
seal  of  the  covenant  that  he  made  with  them.  This  mark  was  most 
properly  made  in  that  part  of  their  flesh,  because  the  great  promise 
to  Abraham  was,  that  he  would  multiply  his  seed  as  the  stars  of 
heaven,  and  that  in  his  seed  all  the  nations  of  the  world  should  be 
blessed^ ;  and  it  aptly  represents  (besides  other  things)  that  they 
were  to  be  an  holj/  seed  unto  the  Lord.  After  this  God  did  by  two 
persons,  Jacob  and  Esau,  shadow  forth  unto  them,  that  his  favours 
are  at  his  own  disposal,  and  that  they  are  not  conferred  by  nature, 
but  by  grace. 

In  the  line  of  Jacob,  besides  that  there  were  many  mystical  and 
secret  significations  of  his  will,  w-hich  God  made  by  sundry  persons 
and  actions,  there  were  also  many  outward  manifest  images  given 
of  heavenly  things.  In  the  law  that  Moses  delivered  to  them,  their 
several  washings,  their  meats,  their  sacrifices  (to  name  nothing  else) 
were  all  signs  of  all  soils  of  purity  and  obedience,  too  many  now  to 
be  particularly  related.  Their  offerings,  and  some  of  their  sacrifices, 
represented  the  obedience  and  services  of  particular  Christians,  who 
are  made  priests  unto  God  ;  but  the  chiefest  of  them  represented  the 
offering  and  sacrifice  of  the  high  priest  of  our  profession,  which  was 
Christ  himself. 

And  (that  I  may  not  be  tedious)  when  God  would  show  the 
greatest  favour  to  the  world,  and  open  most  of  heaven  and  things 
above,  he  comes  and  dwells  amongst  us  in  the  person  of  his  Son,  and 
in  an  outward  shape  manifests  himself  to  our  eyes  and  ears :  for  in 
the  verv  humanity  of  Christ  so  much  of  divinity  appeared,  and  the 
majesty,  wisdom,  power  and  goodness  of  God  so  rayed  forth,  that 
he  saith  to  Philip,  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen  the  Father  also^. 
Yea,  when  God  would  give  a  testimony  of  Jesus  to  be  his  Son,  he 
doth  it  by  the  visible  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  he  saw 
coming  down  upon  him  like  a  dove ;  as  if  he  would  tell  us,  that  his 


i  Jude  7. 


Gen.  xxii.  17,  18. 


'  John  .\iv.  9. 


PREFACE. 


7 


own  Son  shall  likewise  be  taught  by  these  outward  signs  and  re- 
semblances, he  being  in  all  things  to  be  conformed  unto  men. 

4.  Though  our  Lord  therefore  hath  taught  a  religion  more  full  of 
spiritual  notions  than  had  been  manifested  before,  and  hath  given 
more  clear  notice  of  things  above  unto  men's  minds  than  had  for- 
merly come  unto  them,  yet  he  would  not  quite  alter  the  old  manner 
of  discipline  by  outward  things,  but  retains  some  of  them  in  his 
economy,  knowing  how  weak  the  minds  of  men  are,  and  how  much 
more  easily  they  apprehend  by  sense  than  by  themselves.  Only  it 
is  to  be  observed,  that  he  hath  made  even  these  outward  things  to 
speak  more  plainly,  and  tell  their  meaning  more  distinctly,  and  hath 
writ  their  instructions  in  a  greater  and  more  legible  letter  than  ever 
before. 

5.  Baptism  is  one  of  those  relics,  a  symbol  of  great  and  clear 
significancy,  the  sacrament  of  regeneration,  or  the  second  birth ; 
which  it  doth  most  aptly  express,  as  the  following  treatise  will  sufB- 
ciently  show  you.  For  the  present  it  may  suffice  to  say,  that  water 
(of  all  things  that  are  easy  to  be  got,  and  are  at  hand)  was  the  most 
fit  thing  that  can  be  thought  on  to  be  chosen  to  make  an  emblem  of 
the  spiritual  generation.  For  we  naturally  come  out  of  a  liquid 
moist  substance,  out  of  a  slimy  water ;  or  in  Job's  phrase,  We  are 
poured  out  like  milk  and  then  curdled  in  the  womb  like  cheese  ™.  It  is 
not  unusual  in  the  scripture  to  speak  of  our  natural  procreation 
under  the  metaphor  of  water,  as  may  be  discerned  by  consulting  but 
these  two  places,  Prov.  v.  15,  16,  &c.,  ix.  17.  And  it  is  well  known, 
that  while  we  lie  in  the  womb,  we  swim  in  a  sweet  liquor,  and  hang 
by  the  navel  in  the  midst  of  a  watery  nourishment.  Osiris  and  Isis, 
if  we  may  believe  Plutarch  were  nothing  in  the  Egyptian  mytho- 
logy but  the  river  Nile  and  the  earth,  between  which  two  all  things 
were  begotten. 

So  the  Scholiast  upon  the  first  verse  of  Pindar^  thinks,  that 
therefore  water  is  to  be  reputed  the  best  of  things,  because  out  of  it 
the  other  three  elements  are  begotten ;  out  of  the  subtle  part  of  it 
the  air  is  begotten  ;  out  of  the  grosser,  being  curdled  and  compacted, 
the  earth ;  and  out  of  the  more  ethereal  and  spirituous  part  the 
fire.  But  perhaps  I  do  not  well  to  pursue  this  notion  so  far,  and 
our  Saviour  might  not  have  respect  to  such  things  as  these.  Yet 
this  we  are  sure  of,  that  we  must  be  born  again  0/  water  and  the 
Spirit  P  ,■  and  that  our  spiritual  nourishment,  after  Christ  is  conceived 


Job  X.  10.  °Trjs  Twv  &.\\wv  ytviatut  aXriov.  [in 

n  [De  Isid.  et  Osir.  p.  363  D  :  Cf.     Olymp.  i.  i,  torn.  ii.  part.  1.  p.  22.] 
Sympos.  lib.  viii.  p.  729  B.]  P  John  iii.  ?. 


8 


PREFACE. 


within  us,  is  compared  unto  water  also,  as  you  may  see,  John  iv.  14. 
And  I  cannot  but  likewise  think  that  he  had  some  regard,  in  ap- 
pointing baptism,  to  the  cleansing  and  cooling  quality  that  is  in 
water ;  and  that  it  excellently  represents  unto  us  the  Spirit  of  God 
to  be  poured  forth  to  the  purifying  and  washing  us  from  the  filth  of 
sin,  and  the  blood  of  Christ  to  the  extinguishing  our  guilt,  and 
quenching  the  heat  of  God's  anger  that  might  justly  burn  in  our 
souls,  when  we  did  remember  that  we  were  sinners. 

6.  But  there  have  so  many  several -winds  of  doctrine  blown  upon 
these  waters  of  baptism,  and  strove  together,  that  they  are  become 
troubled  and  darkened  ;  so  that  one  can  scarcely  see  with  any  clear- 
ness to  the  bottom  of  them. 

The  great  controversies  that  have  arose  about  the  persons  that 
should  be  baptized  have  so  tossed  and  agitated  men's  thoughts,  that 
I  doubt  few  have  any  calm  and  settled  apprehensions  of  the  nature 
and  end  of  baptism  itself.  Most  books  that  treat  of  this  subject  are 
so  concerned  in  the  quarrel  of  infants,  that  the  use  which  men 
ought  seriously  to  make  of  it  is  much  forgotten.  If  men  thought 
more  of  its  true  ends,  they  would  lay  aside  their  disputes,  or  not 
manage  them  so  roughly ;  and  they  would  soon  see  that  we  are  all 
baptized  into  the  same  Spirit,  and  made  of  the  same  body,  and 
entered  by  it  into  the  same  society  and  community  of  holy  and 
peaceable  ones.  What  more  cool  than  water  ?  What  sooner  puts 
out  all  our  fires }  If  the  waters  of  baptism  (next  to  the  blood  of 
Christ)  were  sprinkled  upon  our  intemperate  heats,  they  would  as- 
suage our  boiling  passions,  and  we  should  contain  ourselves  within 
the  due  bounds  of  a  loving  and  gentle  zeal. 

But,  as  I  said,  it  is  but  little  thought  of  for  what  Christ  did  insti- 
tute this  holy  rite.  Some  look  upon  it  but  as  a  cold  ceremony,  and 
many  speak  of  it  as  a  thing  that  must  be  done,  because  Christ  hath 
commanded,  but  cannot  tell  to  what  purpose;  and  others  glory  in  it 
as  a  privilege,  but  little  understand  any  thing  of  duty  thai  it  requires 
of  them. 

Pliny  q  tells  of  a  water  in  Cilicia,  which  is  called,  he  saith,  Novs,  or 
'  Mind,'  because  it  will  make  their  senses  that  drink  it  subtle  and 
apprehensive.  Suidas  "  on  the  contrary  saith,  that  it  is  called "Afous, 
or  •  Want-wit,'  because  it  makes  people  foolish,  and  takes  away 
their  understanding.  Such  a  different  esteem  do  men  seem  to  have 
of  these  waters  of  baptism  ;  while  some  who  seem  wise  despise  them 
as  of  no  efificacy,  and  use  them  only  in  compliance  with  simple 


1  Hist.  Nat.  lib.  xxxi.  [cap.  12.] 


[In  voc.  KfVxos,  col.  2078  C] 


PREFACE. 


0. 


people ;  and  others  make  them  such  heavenly  matters,  that  they 
doubt  not  at  all  but  being  baptized  they  are  wise  enough  unto  sal- 
vation. But  both  of  them  are  agreed  in  this,  to  understand  no  en- 
gagement that  is  laid  upon  us  by  them,  and  to  expect  that  what  they 
can  do  should  be  wrought  alone  by  them,  without  any  help  or 
assistance  from  ourselves.  And  we  find  the  greatest  multitude  of 
that  sort,  who  glory  in  baptism,  as  the  Jews  did  boast  of  circum- 
cision ;  who  say  in  effect  what  Julian  ^  (it  is  like  fitlsely)  makes  Con- 
stantius  say,  '  that  our  religion  requires  nothing  of  the  greatest 
sinners,  but  only  this,  Wash,  and  thou  art  clean  from  all  thy  foul 
crimes ;  and  if  thou  commit  them  again,  do  but  knock  thy  breast, 
and  beat  thy  head,  and  all  is  well.'  But  Justin  Martyr  might  have 
answered  him,  and  gives  us  all  another  lesson  in  his  dialogue  with  the 
Jew  ;  where  he  saith,  '  What  good  doth  that  baptism  that  scours  the 
skin  only,  and  makes  the  body  white  .''  Baptize  yourselves  from 
anger,  and  from  covetousness,  from  envy  and  hatred,  and  then 
behold  your  body  is  clean'.' 

It  is  a  sign  and  seal  of  God's  great  blessings,  and  so  it  is  of  our 
promise  to  him  of  obedience.  Upon  condition  then  that  we  own 
this  covenant  when  we  understand  it,  and  keep  ourselves  strictly  and 
religiously  to  the  terms  of  it,  we  may  say  of  these  waters,  as  Euri- 
pides" of  the  sea  (upon  the  occasion  of  Plato's  recovery  by  the  salt 
waters  in  Egypt) ; 

QaXaaira  kXv^ci  iravTa  r  dvdpwirw  koko' 
They  '  wash  away  and  heal  all  the  evil  diseases  of  men.'    But  other- 
wise they  will  be  like  some  waters  in  Thrace,  in  which  whosoever 
washed  (if  we  may  believe  Vitruvius")  he  certainly  died. 

7.  I  have  therefore  adventured  to  expose  to  the  world  a  few  of  my 
green  and  unconcocted  thoughts  concerning  this  argument,  and  to 
represent  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  true  meaning  of  baptism,  which 
is  nothing  different  from  the  sense  of  the  church  of  God.  There  are 
a  multitude  of  books,  I  know,  in  the  world,  and  men  complain  of  it. 
They  that  do  may  let  this  alone  ;  and  of  others  I  may  easily  obtain  a 
pardon  for  putting  myself  into  the  crowd,  since  1  take  but  up  a  little 
room,  and  make  but  a  very  short  stop  in  their  passage  to  better 
authors.  Others,  it  may  be  said,  might  have  been  better  allowed  to 
have  handled  this  matter.    I  think  so  too  ;  and  believe  there  are 

'  In  bis  Kai'ffapfs.— "OcTTis  ^fayrjs  Kal  Spvyei ;  k.  t.  A.  [§.  14.  p.  1 14  D.] 
ffSe\vp6s,  K.r.K.  [torn.  i.  p.  336  A.]  u  [Iph'g-  in  Taur.  i  193.] 

t  Ti'  yap  o<peKos  (K^ivuv  ^aTrnV/iaToj,         x  Vitruv.  1.  viii.  c.  3. 
h  TTfv  arapKO.  Kal  fi6i'ov  rh  crufia  <pat- 


JO 


PREFACE. 


great  numbers  that  understand  better,  and  multitudes  that  under- 
stand as  much,  and  some  that  can  enlarge  these  things  that  are  here 
said  into  more  perspicuous  and  profitable  discourses,  and  I  dare  not 
so  much  as  flatter  myself  that  I  am  able  to  lead  the  way  to  any  of 
them.  If  I  may  provoke  them  to  do  better,  I  think  my  labour  well 
bestowed.  I  am  sensible  that  the  images  of  truth  make  but  a  weak 
and  waterish  impression  upon  my  mind ;  but  they  may  draw  more 
lively  pictures  of  themselves  upon  others'  souls,  and  let  them  give  us 
a  copy  of  their  conceptions. 

8.  Since  the  preaching  of  this  sermon,  it  came  so  strongly  into 
my  mind  (by  taking  notice  of  some  discourses  abroad)  to  insert 
something  of  confirmation,  that  I  could  not  well  put  away  those 
thoughts  ;  and  so  I  have  let  them  take  their  place  in  the  body  of  the 
sermon,  by  way  of  persuasion  to  a  more  hearty  and  open  owning  of 
the  baptismal  covenant. 

Thereby  men  will  ascend  from  water  unto  wine,  from  a  weak 
estate  to  a  more  strong  and  manly  constitution  :  and  God  will  not 
only  sprinkle  clean  water  upon  their  faces,  but  even  lay  his  hands 
upon  their  heads:  thereby  taking  more  firm  hold  of  them,  and  ap- 
prehending them  for  his  own,  and  conferring  his  blessings  more 
abundantly  on  them  now  that  they  put  themselves  into  his  hands,  to 
be  directed  and  ruled  in  all  things  by  him,  as  those  that  are  wholly 
in  his  power. 

I  dare  not  keep  you  any  longer  in  the  entry,  for  fear  you  grow 
weary,  and  loath  to  step  over  the  threshold  of  the  next  leaf,  and  look 
into  the  main  building.  And  there  I  shall  not  stay  your  eyes  long; 
for  my  furniture  being  little,  it  was  not  wisdom  to  make  the  house 
too  wide  and  spacious. 


Nov.  6,  1658. 


S.P. 


Acts  xvi.  33. 
and  was  baptized,  he  and  all  his,  straiglUivay . 


Christ  having  given  a  command  to  his  apostles  to  go  and 
teach  (or  disciple)  all  nations^  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of 
the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost'^ ;  we  find  in  this  story  of 
their  acts  (wherein  some  of  their  travels  are  related),  that  as 
soon  as  they  had  persuaded  any  persons  to  be  Christians,  im- 
mediately they  received  them  into  their  fellowship  by  this 
ceremony  of  washing  them  with  water.  A  truth,  which  among 
all  the  disputes  about  baptism,  one  would  think,  should  never 
have  been  quarrelled  ;  yet  there  have  been  those  busy  fancies 
in  the  world  that  have  called  this  into  question,  and  would  per- 
suade us  that  our  Saviour  in  those  words  intended  not  any  such 
washing  with  water,  and  no  other  baptism  is  to  be  owned  but 
that  of  the  Spirit"^. 

But  so  men  may  say,  if  they  please,  that  when  Philip  and 
the  eunuch  went  into  the  water  he  baptized  him  with  fire  <=.  If 
the  apostles  could  understand  our  Saviour's  meaning,  those 
men  are  sufficiently  refuted  by  their  practice :  for  though  our 
Saviour  baptized  none  that  we  read  of  but  with  the  Spirit  (and 
the  papists  will  have  a  hard  task  to  obtain  this  preeminence 
for  Peter,  that  he  received  the  baptism  of  water  at  Christ's 
hands'*);  yet  it  will  be  needless  pains  to  prove  that  his  apo- 

*  Matth.  xxviii.  49.  Evodius  (successor  to  St.  Peter  in 
b  August,  de  Haeres.  46.  ["  Ma-  the  episcopate  of  Antioch),  entitled 
nichaei  . .  baptismum  in  aqua  nihil  to  *Q>r,  and  preserved  by  Nice- 
cuiquam  perhibent  salutis  afFerre;  phorus  (H.  E.  ii.  3) : — 
nec  quemquam  eorum  quos  deci-  'O  fie  ttoXit  to.  deia  Evo'fitoy,  tS)v 
piunt  baptizandum  putant," — torn.  UpS>v  6'  aTToaroXaiv  Kai  ovtos  8ia- 
viii.  col.  17  C]  et  Haeres.  59.  ["  Se-  fio^oy,  eV  vols  avrov  avyypdfifxaai, 
leuciani . .  baptismum  in  aqua  non  fjiaXtcrTa  fi'  eV  rfj  €TricrToXfj  rjv  <I>cds 
accipiunt,"— col.  20  D.]  eVfypax/^f,  xai  ravra  npocTTldrjaiv'  'O 
*^  Act.  viii.  38.  Xpiaros,  Xtycov,  Idlais  x(p(Jt  top  Ile- 
<^  [This  one  of  the  most  remark-  rpov  fiovov  (^dnTiaf  Tlirpos  d'  'Ar- 
able traditions  to  be  met  with  among  dptav  Ka\  tovs  Ze/3eSaiou  vluvs'  'Av- 
the  legendary  records  of  antiquity.  8peai  fie  Ka\  oi  rov  Ze/Sefiai'ou  roi/s 
The  following  are  the  fragmentary  Xolwovs  dnoa-roKav'  tovs  S'  (08oprj- 
nolices  of  the  Greek  fathers  upon  kovtu  UeTpns  Kal'loidwrii  6  6(o\6yos 
which  it  rests.  (ia-rrTl^ovcn. 

I.  A  fragment  of  the  epistle  of  2.  Euthymhis  (in  Joann.  iii.  5, 


12 


Aqua  Genitalis  :  or. 


sties,  and  their  successors  after  him,  did  initiate  and  admit  dis- 
ciples in  that  manner. 

But  notwithstanding  this,  there  are  others,  that,  lest  the 
world  should  be  quiet,  start  a  new  question,  Whether  that 
command  of  our  Lord's  extended  any  further  than  to  the  first 
proselyting  of  the  nations,  or  ought  now  to  be  followed  among 


torn.  iii.  p.  95.)  reports  the  tradition 
somewhat  differently ;  to  the  effect 
that  the  Saviour  baptized  his  own 
mother  also  with  his  own  hands  : — 
Tpd(f)ov(7i  Se  Tives  eyyi^oVTes  rois 
^povois  tS}V  aTTOCTToXav,  oTi  6  (lev 
XpicTToy  (^dnricre  tov  Tltrpou  Koi  Trjv 
BeoTOKov,  6  Se  TleTpos  Trduras  tovs 
aTToaToXovs. 

3.  A  citation  from  the  Memo- 
randa of  Sophronius  (patriarch  of 
Jerusalem,  A.  D.  629-638)  in  a  frag- 
ment on  the  baptism  of  the  twelve 
apostles,  extant  among  the  MSS.  in 
the  imperial  library  of  Vienna,  (cod. 
34,  in  the  index  of  Lambecius,  p. 
205.  8vo,  Han.  1714,)  and  printed 
by  Gaulmyn  in  his  edition  of  the 
Life  of  Moses,  p.  553.  The  frag- 
ment is  attributed  to  Symeon  the 
monk :  (Petr.  Lamb.  1.  c.,p.  431,)  by 
others  to  Theodoret  bishop  of 
Cyrus,  (Fabric.  Bibl.  Gr.  torn.  ix. 
p.  163.)  or  by  a  palpable  error  to  So- 
phronius himself,  (Gaulmyn,  1.  c. 
Gamier,  diss.ii.  in  Theod.,  tom.  v. 
p.  414.  ed.  Schulze,) : — 

'Evpopev  iv  rolj  Ynopivrjpacn  tov 
aylov  Scocppovlov  koi  «XXa  TrXeiora 
fivrjprjs  a^ia,  Ka\  irpbs  tovtois  Koi  rav- 
ra,  nepi  hv  koi  ttjv  i'pfvvav  fnonjcra- 
fJLCv,  OTi  povou  TOV  ayiov  UeTpov  6 
Kvpios  Koi  ©eds  Tjpwv  'lijcrovs  6  Xpi- 
CTTOS  oiKelais  )(epa\v  e^dTTTiae'  koi 
TleTpos  ' \v8peav,  Koi  AfSpeaj  Idfco)- 
fiov  Kal  Icodvvrjv,  la)dvv7]s  8e  Koi  Id- 
KQijios  TOVS  XoiTTovy  ndvTQs  anocTTo- 
Xovs. 

4.  A  quotation  from  the  fifth 
book  of  the  lost  Hypotyposes  of 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  preserved 
by  Palladius,  as  quoted  by  some 
anonymous  disputants  in  the  .\(lp<ov. 


or  '  Spiritual  Pasture'  of  the  Syrian 
monk  Joannes  Moschus  (wrong- 
ly attributed  by  some  to  Sophro- 
nius; see  Cave,  infra.  Fabric.  I.  c. 
Phot.  Biblioth.  cod.  199.  p.  162): — 
4>j;o"i  yap  KXrifXTis  6  ^TpwpaTfvs,  iv 
T(0  Tre^TTTO)  Topo)  Ta>v  YTTOTVTToxrecov, 
TO  aTTOCTToXlKOV  prjTOV  f^TjyOVpfVOS,  TO 

Xeyov,  EvxapiCTTO)  oti  ovSeva  vpwv 
ejSdTTTKTa,  O  XpiaTos  XeyeTai  Ue- 
Tpov povov  ^f^aTTTLKevai,  UeTpos  8e 
AvBpeav,  Avbpeas  ^laKoi^ov  Koi  Ico- 
dvvrjv'  ineivoi  Se  tovs  Xoittovs. — Cap. 
176.  in  Biblioth.  Patr.  Gr.  per 
Front.  Due.  tom.  ii.  p.  1 133  D. 

It  is  confidently  advanced  and 
supported  by  several  among  the 
later  controversial  writers  of  the 
church  of  Rome,  e.  g.  Lindanus 
(Panopl.  Evang.  lib.  iv.  cap.  81.  p. 
440.),  Bellarmine  (de  Pont.  Rom. 
hb.  i.  cap.  23.  tom.  i.  col.  691  ;  de 
Bapt.  lib.  i.  cap.  9.  tom.  ii.  col.  274.), 
and  Baronius  (Annal.  Eccles.  A.D. 
31.  n.  40).  It  is  also  related  in  the 
Life  of  Christ  written  in  Persian  by 
father  Geronymo  Xavier  for  the  use 
of  Jesuit  missionaries  in  the  East, 
and  translated  into  Latin  by  Louis 
de  Dieu,  p.  154. 

For  a  critical  discussion  of  the 
historical  value  of  these  traditions 
the  reader  is  referred  to  the  remarks 
of  Cave,  (Life  of  S.  Peter,  §.  3.  p.  9. 
Script.  Eccles.  tom.  i.  p.  24  ;)  Ca- 
saubon,  (Exercit.  24.  in  Baron,  p. 
280;)  Morton,  (Catholike  Apology, 
pt.  2.  p.  275,)  and  Voss,  (de  Bapt. 
disp.  7.  §  16.  p.  281.)  The  supposed 
epistle  of  Evodius  is  rejected  by 
Baronius  himself  elsewhere  (in  A.  D. 
71.  n.  13.  col.  885.)  as  being  desti- 
tute of  early  or  authentic  testimony.] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism.  13 

Christian  people  ?  who  might  have  spared  the  labour  of  making 
such  a  doubt^  unless  they  could  give  us  some  ground  to  think 
that  that  part  of  their  commission  was  after  revoked,  or  then 
limited  to  such  a  time  ;  and  likewise  solidly  expound  those  fol- 
lowing words,  I  am  ivitli  you  alivays  to  the  end  of  tlie  world; 
and  show  us  why  the  work  of  the  new  birth,  which  the  apostle 
makes  the  signification  of  baptism,  is  not  now  as  well  as  then 
to  be  shadowed  and  represented.  Yet  others  will  not  let  their 
wits  be  at  rest,  but  make  a  further  inquiry.  Whether  the 
words  of  our  Saviour  include  in  them  a  command  or  only  a 
permission,  because  he  saitli  only  baptizing,  not  baptize  <^ 
Though  the  constant  practice  of  the  apostles  in  this  book  re- 
lated, and  of  the  church  afterward,  might  well  have  been  suffi- 
cient to  have  silenced  these  thoughts  without  any  further  dis- 
pute; and  the  following  words  likewise,  teaching  them,  &c.  ^ 
would  have  told  such  men  that  their  inquiry  was  needless, 
unless  it  can  be  thought,  that  because  he  doth  not  say,  go 
teach,  we  may  choose  whether  we  will  give  any  further  in- 
struction to  our  people. 

Taking  it  therefore  for  granted,  without  engaging  myself  in 
such  questions,  that  the  words  now  read  do  speak  of  baptism 
by  water  still  to  be  retained  in  the  church  of  God,  you  may 
observe  in  them  these  three  thinrfs : 

o 

I.  A  rite  or  ceremony  used,  and  that  is  baptism  or  washing 
with  water. 

II.  The  person  baptized,  the  jailor  and  all  his. 

III.  The  time  of  its  administration,  -napaxpy^HJ-a,  straightway, 
instantly,  at  that  hour  of  the  night  that  the  foregoing  story 
was  acted,  without  any  further  delay. 

From  which  I  am  invited  to  treat  of  three  things  : 
First,  of  the  use  and  intention  of  baptism. 
Secondly,  of  the  qualities  or  dispositions  of  those  that  re- 
ceive it. 

Thirdly,  of  the  time  that  is  required  to  render  them  persons 
fitly  qualified  to  receive  it. 

I.  For  the  explication  of  the  first,  we  need  find  no  fault  with 
the  common  language  that  saith,  "  baptism  in  its  general 


*  Bairri^ovTfs. 


'  AiBd<TK0VT(s  avTOVs,  ver,  20. 


14 


Aqua  Genitalis;  or, 


notion  is  an  outn-ard  visible  sit^n  and  seal  of  some  inward  and 
invisible  grace  and  favour,  conveyed  and  made  over  thereby 
unto  us."  But  to  difference  it  from  the  other  sacrament,  we 
must  inquire  what  that  grace,  favour,  and  privilege  is,  and 
show  how  it  doth  signify  and  seal  it  between  God  and  us. 
And  upon  due  consideration,  I  believe  we  shall  find  that  to  be 
baptized  expresseth  something  on  our  part,  and  something  on 
God^s  ;  both  which  put  together  make  it  a  federal  rite,  where- 
by we  and  God  enter  into  a  covenant  and  agreement  together, 
and  mutually  engage  to  the  performance  of  several  things 
which  are  all  to  our  behoof  and  benefit. 

i.  As  we  present  ourselves  to  the  minister  of  this  sacrament 
and  receive  it,  so  it  expresses  something  done  by  us  ;  and  then, 
ii.  As  the  minister,  God's  deputy  or  ambassador,  doth  receive 
us,  and  wash  us  with  this  water  by  the  authority  and  into  the 
name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;  so  it  expresseth 
something  done  by  God.  Both  which  it  concerns  us  for  the 
securing  of  our  duty  and  our  comfort  also  to  be  acquainted 
withal,  and  therefore  I  shall  show  you, 

i.  What  is  the  true  meaning  and  intent  of  it  on  the  part  of 
the  person  baptized,  who  offers  himself,  or  is  offered  to  receive 
it :  which  I  will  lay  before  you  in  these  ptirticulars : 

I.  First,  in  the  general  notion  of  it,  it  is  a  profession  of  a 
religion  whereinto  we  enter,  and  to  which  we  engage  to  be 
faithful  and  constant  disciples.  It  is  a  ceremony  whereby  pros- 
elytes are  made,  and  all  that  use  it  do  thereby  come  into  a 
new  way  and  state,  forsaking  all  their  old  persuasions,  practices 
and  relations  wherein  they  were  born  and  bred,  that  are  con- 
trary to  and  inconsistent  with  these  new  engagements.  It  is 
well  observed  by  S.  Augustine s,  that  "  men  can  be  associated 
together  in  no  religion,  whether  true  or  false,  unless  they  be 
combined  by  the  common  tie  of  some  visible  signs  and  sacra- 
ments of  their  profession."  AYhich  the  world  hath  found  by  so 
long  experience  to  be  true,  that  I  need  not  be  careful  to  prove 
it.  The  Jews,  it  is  manifest,  were  differenced  from  others  by 
circumcision,  and  (as  their  doctors  tell  us)  entered  into  covenant 
with  God,  not  only  by  it,  but  by  baptism  also,  together  with  a 

o  In  nullum  nomen  religionis,  culorum  seu  sacraraentorum  visibi- 
seu  verum  seu  falsum,  coagulari  lium  consortio  colligentur.  Ad  Faust, 
possunt  homines,  nisi  aliquo  signa-    1.  19.  c.  ii.  [tom.viii.  col.  319  E.] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


15 


sacrifice  unto  him.  And  when  a  heathen  would  become  a  Jew'', 
and  undertake  their  rehgion,  and  so  repose  himself  (as  their 
phrase  is)  under  the  wings  of  the  divine  Majesty,  he  was  to  be 
circumcised,  baptized,  and  offer  sacrifice ;  for  which  Maimon » 
(as  sundry  learned  men  observe  out  of  him)  brings  no  other 
proof  but  that,  -i^l^  ije  are,  so  shall  the  stranger  be  3 ;  so  sup- 
posing as  a  thing  well  known,  that  by  those  three  the  Jews 
submitted  themselves  to  the  yoke  of  the  law.  And  it  is  as 
commonly  known  that  they  say  their  mothers  entered  into 
covenant  only  by  baptism  and  sacrifice  ;  and  so  did  some  prose- 
lytes by  those  (without  circumcision)  engage  to  worship  the 
one  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob,  and  forsaking  all  idols 
to  observe  him  only ;  as  that  passage  of  R.  Joshua's  clearly 
shows,  which  is  cited  by  Raymundus  k,  "  He  is  baptized,  and 
not  circumcised  :  behold  this  is  a  stranger  converted,  for  so  we 
find  of  our  mothers,  (viz.  Sarah,  Rebekah,  &c.)  that  they  were 
baptized,  but  not  circumcised." 

Baptism  now  hath  no  different  signification',  but  only  we  lay 
this  engagement  upon  ourselves,  to  worship  the  God  and 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  and  to  come  to  him  through 
his  Son,  and  to  embrace  that  religion  which  he  teaches  us  from 
God,  which  is  that  whereby  we  are  distinguished  from  Jews, 
Mahometans,  and  all  other  people  in  the  world,  who  go  not  to 
God  through  this  Mediator,  nor  own  that  blessed  gospel  that 
he  hath  delivered  unto  us. 

If  any  should  ask  me  why  by  baptism  we  should  make  this 
profession  rather  than  any  other  rite,  the  answer  methinks  is 
easy,  if  what  hath  been  said  be  considered,  together  with  the 
particulars  that  I  shall  mention  after  I  have  despatched  this 
general  notion  of  it.  And  besides,  it  seems  considerable  to  mc, 
that  Moses  the  mediator  of  the  old  covenant  did  receive  the 
people  into  it  by  baptism,  and  not  by  circumcision.  For  it  is 
only  said,  that  they  should  sanctify  themselves,  and  wash 
their  clothes '  ;  but  it  is  likewise  plain  from  Joshua  v.  5,  that 


h  See  Buxtorf.  Lex.  Rab.  vocab. 
-i:-  [in  Ti>  col.  407.] 

'  De  prohibito  coiigresbu.  [in 
tract.  Isure  biah,  apud  Josejih.  de 
Voisin,  de  Lege  Div.  cap.  7.  p.  50.] 


j  Num.  XV.  15. 

^  Pug.  Fidei,  part.  3.  dist.  3. 
c.  II.  [§.  17.  p.  785.  e  lib.  Jeham- 
moth.] 

•  Exod.  xix.  10. 


16 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


none  were  circumcised  while  they  were  in  the  wilderness  ; 
and  they  are  not  all  the  while  reproved  or  rebuked  for  it,  and 
were  notwithstanding  within  the  covenant,  which  was  sure  by 
some  ceremony  or  other :  and  the  apostle  also  saith,  that  ihei/ 
were  all  baptized  into  Moses  in  the  cloud,  and  in  the  sea'^. 
God  by  the  covering  of  the  cloud  took  them  under  his  wings 
and  protection,  owning  them  for  his  people  ;  and  they  passing 
throu£;h  the  heart  of  the  sea,  the  waters  enclosing;  them  round 
about,  did  profess  to  trust  in  God,  and  there  to  drown  all  the 
thou£rhts  of  Egypt,  which  sometimes  they  feared,  and  sometimes 
they  loved  overmuch.  Now  as  only  baptism,  and  not  circum- 
cision was  used,  when  God  conducted  his  people  by  the  visible 
ministry  of  angels,  who  marched  with  them  in  the  cloud,  and 
delivered  them  from  the  slavery  and  bondage  of  Egypt  by  the 
hand  of  Moses  ;  so  God  thought  fit  to  use  no  other  way  of 
making  disciples  when  he  sent  his  own  Son  to  work  a  greater 
salvation  for  us,  and  to  be  the  mediator  of  a  better  covenant 
with  us.  Of  which  the  ancient  Jews  do  not  seem  to  have  been 
altogether  ignorant,  when  they  say  that  there  shall  be  such 
a  multitude  of  prosehi:es  in  the  days  of  the  Messiah",  that  they 
shall  be  admitted  by  baptism  only  "nithout  any  circumcision.  It 
may  not  be  unfit  to  add,  that  all  nations  used  washing  so  much, 
that  there  could  not  be  invented  (one  would  think)  a  rite  more 
likely  to  be  readily  received  than  this.  The  Jews,  it  is  plain, 
not  only  when  they  admitted  persons  into  covenant,  but  after- 
wards also  in  case  of  legal  pollutions,  used  divers  washinc/s,  as 
the  apostle's  phrase  is°.  Three  sorts  of  which  I  find  observed 
by  a  learned  man  P.  First,  there  were  their  KaO-qnepivoi  /3air- 
Tio-^olq,  their  '  daily  washings,'  which  were  introduced  by  the 
Pharisees.  Secondly,  there  were  their  baptisms  or  immersions 
of  the  whole  body  into  water,  which  all  the  Jews  were  bound 
unto  in  their  confessions.  And  thirdly,  the  bathings  of  their 
women,  which  they  were  tied  unto  seven  weeks  after  then-  de- 
livery of  a  child.    Unto  which  I  may  likewise  add,  that  wash- 

™  I  Cor.  X.  2.  that  72c  and  ^awri^taSai  do  not  sig- 

n  Vid.  Grot,  in  Mat.  iii.  6.  [torn,  nify  among  them  always  the  wash- 

ii.  p.  22.]  ing  of  the  whole  bodj-,  which  is  to 

o  Heb.  ix.  10.  be  obsen-ed  against  those  that  make 

P  Gaulmyn,  not.  in  Vit.  Mosis,  it   now   necessary.    Not.  Miscel. 

1.  i.e.  II.  [p- 139-]  cap-  9-  [a'i  c^c.  Portae  Mosis,  p. 

q  Mr.  Pocock  hath  largely  shown  393.] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism.  IT 

ing  was  used  as  a  token  of  innocency,  and  freedom  from  such 
guilt  as  might  be  thought  to  cleave  to  a  person ;  which  tlie 
Psalmist  supposeth  in  that  phrase,  Ps.  xxvi.  6,  and  the  book  of 
Deuteronomy  plainly  expresseth^,  they  shall  ivash  their  hands, 
and  sarj,  Our  hands  have  not  shed  this  blood,  &c.,  which  per- 
haps Pilate  would  imitate  (having  to  do  with  the  Jews)  when  he 
had  condemned  our  Saviour.  For  he  washed  his  hands  before 
the  multitude,  and  said,  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this 
just  man:  see  you  to  it^ ;  as  if  it  had  been  but  an  accidental 
murder,  or  that  which  he  could  no  more  help  than  if  a  man 
had  been  killed  by  chance.  Certain  it  is  the  Gentiles  likewise 
used  washings  very  much,  not  only  after  murders,  but  likewise 
in  case  of  other  crimes,  and  also  in  their  admissions  of  persons 
into  the  secrets  of  some  of  their  religions ;  for  which  see  Ter- 
tulhan".  And  if  there  were  nothing  else  to  make  us  believe 
the  Jews  used  this  ceremony  in  these  caseSj  this  might  make  it 
very  probable ;  for  the  Gentiles  were  but  their  apes,  and  the 
devil  (as  Just.  Martyr^  observes  in  this  very  case  of  baptism) 
took  divine  rites,  and  made  them  do  service  in  his  helhsh  mys- 
teries. "  They  hearing,"  saith  he,  "  the  saying  of  the  prophet, 
Wash  you,  make  you  clean,  &c.y,  would  have  their  worship- 
pers sprinkled  with  water  when  they  went  into  their  temples 
to  make  an  offering,  yea,  and  be  washed  all  over  before  they 
came  thither."  All  which  being  true,  our  blessed  Lord  would 
think  it  fit  to  innovate  as  little  as  he  could,  and  so  to  accommo- 
date this  significant  and  innocent  ceremony  to  his  purposes, 
and  translate  it  from  the  Jews,  to  be  a  rite  whereby  to  profess 
inward  purity  of  body  and  soul:  just  as  he  did  in  the  other 
sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper,  wherein  he  hath  made  use  not 
only  of  the  bread  and  wine,  but  as  divers  have  observed,  of  the 
accustomed  words  which  the  Jews  then  used  at  the  paschal 
supper  2.  For  so  his  wisdom  judged  it  meet  to  make  former 
rites  serve  his  own  ends,  rather  than  introduce  strange  and 
unheard  of  things  which  had  not  been  known  in  former  times. 
His  design  was  not  novelty,  but  truth ;  not  his  own  glory,  but 

'  Deut.  xxi.  6,  7.  KeKrjpvyixfvov,  &c.  Apolog.  ii.  [al.  i. 

t  Matth.  xxvii.  24.  §  62.  p.  80  C] 

"  De  Baptis.  cap.  5.  [p.  226.]  et  y  Isai.  i.  16. 

de  Prsescript.  cap.  14.  [p.  216.]  ^  [Vid.  Martin.  Pug.  Fid.  part.  iii. 

^  Kai  TO  \ovTpov  bq  TovTo  uKov-  dist.  3.  cap.  15.  p.  840;   Grot,  in 

aavTfs  oi  daifjLoves  fiia  rov  Trpo^i^rou  Matt.  xxvi.  26.  torn.  ii.  p.  250.] 

PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  C 


18 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


the  good  of  men ;  and  so  he  conformed  himself  in  this  to  their 
practice.  AYhich  (that  I  may  speak  more  particularly)  is  to  be 
considered, 

2.  Secondly,  as  a  profession  of  repentance  from  dead  works  ; 
a  rehnquishing  of  all  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  so  as  never 
more  to  be  friends  with  them.  This  is  taught  us  not  only  by 
the  baptism  of  John,  which  was  administered  with  confession  of 
sin,  and  is  called  the  baptism  of  repentance^,  and  hkewise  ac- 
companied with  an  exhortation  to  bring  forth  fruits  meet  for 
repentance^,  and  in  refusing  of  which  the  Pharisees  are  said 
to  have  rejected  the  counsel  of  God  against  themselves'^ ;  but 
also  by  the  exhortation  of  the  apostle  to  the  new  converts. 
Repent,  and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you,  &c.d,  i.  e.  make  pro- 
fession of  your  repentance  by  baptism  to  the  remission  of  yom' 
sins,  the  sense  of  which  had  pricked  them  in  their  hearts. 
And  it  is  further  manifest  from  all  the  circumstances  of  bap- 
tism. For  they  put  oiF  their  old  clothes,  and  stript  themselves 
of  their  garments ;  then  they  were  immersed  all  over,  and 
buried  in  the  water,  which  notably  signified  the  pzitting  off  the 
body  of  the  sins  of  the  flesh,  as  the  a])ostle  speaks*',  and  their 
entering  into  a  state  of  death  or  mortification  after  the  simiU- 
tude  of  Christ ;  accorcUng  to  the  same  apostle's  language  else- 
where, we  are  baptized  into  his  death,  we  are  buried  with 
him  in  bapAism,  knowing  that  our  old  man  is  crucified  with 
him,  that  the  body  of  sin  might  be  destroyed,  that  henceforth 
we  might  not  serve  sin^.  All  which  was  rendered  still  more 
significant  by  the  ancients,  who  baptized  only  on  the  last  day 
of  the  week  at  night,  i.  e.  on  the  even  of  two  Lord's  days  in  the 
year,  called  therefore  by  Chrysostom  vvkt€s  (pcoTocpopoLS.  Be- 
cause Christ  then  lay  in  the  grave,  and  was  about  to  rise 
again ;  in  conformity  to  whom,  they  by  this  rite  did  profess 
themselves  to  be  dead,  and,  coming  out  of  the  water,  there  to 
leave  all  their  sins  drowned  and  buried  in  that  grave,  never  to 
revive  again.  There  is  one  thing  more  not  to  be  forgotten, 
which  makes  it  more  clear  that  it  was  intended  for  a  profession 
of  repentance,  and  that  is,  the  renunciation  which  they  made 
to  the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh ;  or  the  open  declaration 


a  Mark  i.  4.       b  Matth.  iii.  6, 8. 
Luke  vii.  30. 
Acts  ii.  38. 


e  Col.  ii.  II.     ^  Rom.  ^-i.  3,  4,  6. 
e  [Horn,  in  sanctum  Pascha,  §  5. 
torn.  iii.  p.  753  c] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


19 


upon  the  question  propounded,  which  they  made  against  all 
God's  enemies ;  the  form  of  which  so  many  ancient  authors  do 
record,  that  it  is  vain  to  cite  any;  but  the  sense  of  it  was  this, 
— Do  you  renounce,  or  do  you  forsake  the  world,  and  all  the 
vanities,  folhes,  and  wickedness  thereof?  I  do  forsake  them, 
said  the  person  to  be  baptized.  Do  you  forsake  the  devil  ? 
Will  you  have  never  any  thing  to  do  with  his  works  ?  I  do 
forsake  them  and  abhor  them  all,  &c.,  unto  which  the  apostle 
is  thought  to  have  reference,  when  he  speaks  of  the  answer  of 
a  good  conscience  as  the  baptism  ivhich  saves  us,  and  not  the 
outward  washing  or  putting  away  of  the  filth  of  the  flesh^. 
This  e-neparrjiJLa,  this  question,  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ? 
and  consequently  the  hearty  answer  to  all  that  is  proposed  as 
requisite  to  salvation,  is  that  which  makes  baptism  to  be  avail- 
able and  of  force  unto  our  salvation.  The  Jews  say  in  their  tra- 
dition that  Adam  stood  a  whole  week  up  to  the  neck  in  water', 
begging  of  God  to  accept  of  his  repentance  for  what  he  liad 
committed.  Whatsoever  he  did,  I  am  sure  this  washing  with 
water  doth  most  fitly  represent  both  our  acknowledgments  that 
we  are  worthy  to  die,  and  be  swallowed  up  in  the  water ;  and 
our  profession  that  wc  will  forsake  all  our  filthiness,  if  we  may 
but  be  accepted  unto  life. 

3.  Thirdly,  it  is  a  profession  of  faith  in  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost.  For  wc  arc  baptized  into  their  name  ;  and  so  it 
signifies,  either  first,  that  we  heartily  accept  of  the  Father  for 
our  God  and  happiness,  to  love  him  above  all ;  and  of  the  Son 
for  our  Lord  and  Saviour  as  the  way  unto  the  Father ;  and  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  for  our  sanctifier,  guide,  and  conductor  to  the 
Son :  or  secondly,  (which  comes  to  the  same,)  that  we  embrace 
that  doctrine  for  our  rule  which  is  delivered  unto  us  from  the 
Father,  through  the  hands  of  his  Sou,  by  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit ;  to  fear  all  his  threatenings,  to  rely  upon  all  his  promises, 
and  to  yield  obedience  to  all  his  commands  as  long  as  we  hve. 
That  this  profession  of  faith  was  made  in  baptism  is  plain,  not 
only  from  Acts  viii.  37,  where  Phihp  saith  to  the  eunuch,  //" 
thou  believest  with  all  thine  heart,  thou  maijest  be  baptized; 
and  he  answers,  /  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God; 

h  I  Pet.  ill.  21.  P-46;  R.  Abr.  Zaciith.  in  Juchasin, 

'  [The  waters  of  upper  Gihon,—  fol.  5  a,  apud  Seld.  de  Synedr. 
vid.  R.  Eliezer,  in  Pirke,  cap.  20.     lib.  i.  cap.  1 1.  torn.  i.  p.  1025.] 

c  Z 


20 


Aqua  Genitalis:  or, 


but  likewise  from  this,  that  the  word  baptism  is  put  for  the 
vrhole  doctrine  which  he  preached  who  did  baptize  ;  as  you 
may  see,  Acts  xviii.  25,  knowing  only  the  baptism  of  John; — 
Acts  xlx.  3,  Into  u'hat  were  you  baptized?  and  they  said, 
Into  John's  baptism:  by  which  it  appears,  that  being  baptized 
into  such  a  name,  though  one  should  speak  nothing,  expresses 
a  consent  to  embrace  that  word  which  he  preaches  and  declares 
to  be  the  wiU  of  God.  Yea,  baptism  is  an  open  profession  and 
declaration  to  aD,  that  we  are  of  such  a  faith ;  for  it  is  not 
enough  that  we  are  persuaded  of  the  truth  of  Christ's  religion, 
but  we  ought  also  pubhely  to  own  it,  and  manifest  to  the  world 
our  behef  of  it,  which  seems  to  me  to  be  the  meanins:  of  that 
place,  Mark  xvi.  16,  He  that  believes  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
saved ;  i.  e.  he  that  owns  the  faith  of  Christ  in  truth,  and 
makes  a  profession  of  his  belief  by  receiving  this  mark  of  the 
Christian  religion,  he  shaU  be  accepted  of  Grod  to  life.  For 
that  was  requu'ed  by  our  Saviour  of  his  disciples,  that  they 
should  not  be  ashamed  of  liira  before  men,  nor  be  afraid  to  let 
the  world  know  that  they  were  his  disciples,  by  using  all 
those  things  whereby  they  were  distinguished  from  the  rest  of 
men. 

4.  It  is  a  profession  of  holiness  and  obedience,  and  an  en- 
gagement we  thereby  lay  upon  ourselves  to  maintain  all  purity 
in  body  and  soul ;  which  is  the  imm.ediate  consequent  of  the 
two  former,  and  seems  to  be  alluded  unto  by  the  apostle,  when 
he  saith,  such  were  some  of  you :  but  you  are  ivashed,  but  you  are 
sanctifiedi,  &c.,  i.  e.  you  have  betaken  yourselves  by  receiving 
of  baptism  to  a  holy  and  pure  conversation.  Ajid  it  is  more 
plainly  expi'cssed  by  him ;  as  many  of  you  as  have  been  bap- 
tized into  Christ  have  put  on  Christ^.  In  token  of  which,  and 
that  they  intended  all  purity,  (like  those  in  the  Revelation, 
who  are  said  to  follow  the  Lamb  in  white,  they  were  presently 
clothed  with  white  grarments  when  thev  came  out  of  the  water. 
From  whence  that  day  was  called  White-Sunday  ',  which  was 
one  of  the  principal  times  when  the  ancients  did  admit  persons 
to  baptism ;  and  they  all  professed  hereby  that  they  hated  the 
garment  spotted  with  the  Jiesh^,  and  would  never  return  again 


j  1  Cor.      II.  Eccl.  Ant.  book  xii.  chap.  4.  §  3, 

Gal.  iii.  27.  and  book  xx.  chap.  6.  §  6.] 

'  [See  authorities  in  Bingham,       ™  Jude  23. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


21 


to  the  dirty  pleasures  of  the  world  wherein  they  had  wallowed. 
An  ancient  Christian  poet  doth  excellently  express  it, 

Fulgentes  animas  vestis  quoque  Candida  sign  at, 

Et  grege  de  niveo  gaudia  pastor  habet 
"  A  bright  garment  was  cast  over  shining  and  glistering  souls, 
and  the  great  Shepherd  took  no  small  pleasure  in  his  milk- 
white  lambs ;"  whose  outward  lustre  did  but  signify  that  they 
were  become  the  children  of  the  light,  and  of  the  day°,  and 
would  have  no  more  fellowship  ivith  the  unfruitful  works  of 
darkness^.  Which  place  some  would  interpret  of  baptism, 
called  therefore  by  the  ancients  ^wtiu\j.o^,  or  "illumination,"  of 
which  those  splendid  garments  were  a  fit  signification.  The 
Greeks  at  this  day  put  such  a  robe  upon  the  child  immediately 
after  baptism,  saying,  "  Receive  this  lucid  and  immaculate 
clothing;,  and  bring-  it  before  the  tribunal  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
without  spot,  and  thou  shalt  have  eternal  life,  Ameni."  Cer- 
tain it  is,  that  all  true  Christians  have  ever  accounted  this  the 
great  intent  of  this  outward  rite  of  baptism,  to  be  an  engage- 
ment to  holiness;  "l(j6l  fxr]  Aourpw,  ak\a  tm  v6(o  Kadapoi^,  is  the 
sense  of  them  all :  "  Be  clean,  not  only  by  the  washing  of  thy 
body,  but  the  purgation  of  thy  mind."  Bathe  and  steep  thy 
soul  in  holy  truths,  till  they  have  fetched  out  all  thy  filth.  For 
even  a  Jew  can  say,  Qui  haptizatur  sine  intentione,  perinde  est 
ac  si  non  baptizatur^ ;  "  He  that  doth  not  intend  that  which  is 
meant  by  baptism  is  as  if  he  were  unbaptized ;"  "  for  it  is  not 
dirt,"  saith  he,  "  and  excrementitious  adherencies  that  a  man 
washeth  away,  but  there  is  a  resemblance  herein  of  the 
cleansing  of  the  soul  from  all  filthiness,  i.  e.  from  those  perverse 
thoughts  and  evil  habits  which  he  professes  to  forsake,  by 
bringing  his  soul  to  the  waters  of  virtue  and  knowledge,  as 
Ezekiel  saith'."  Thus  Maimon".  And  therefore  they  well 
said,  "  He  that  comes  from  among  the  Gentiles  unto  us" 

IWI  "  for  the  sake  of  any  worldly 

"  Venanlius  Honor,  de  Pascha.  4to.  Lips.  1676.] 

[lib.  iii.  cap.  9.  part.  i.  p.  91.]  [Clem.  Alex.  Strom,  lib.  iv. 

°  Filesacus,  lib.  i.  select,  cap.  3.  cap.  22.  p.  629.] 

[p.  37.]  s  Apud  Josepb.  de  Voysin,  de 

P  Eph.  v.  8,  10.  Lege  Div.  cap.  7.  [p.  47.] 

1  George  Phelavius,  Annot.  ad  t  Ezek.  xxxvi.  25. 

Christoph.  Angel,  [de  Statu  hodier-  "  [In  Tract.  Mikuaot,  de  Lava- 

norum  Graecorum,  cap.  24.  p.  493.  cris,  apud  eund.  ibid.] 


oo 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


vanity,  he  is  not  a  proselyte  of  justice^:"  for  which  cause  they 
used  to  examine  him,  whether  for  the  hope  of  gain  or  honour, 
or  compelled  with  fear,  he  betook  himself  to  their  profession  ; 
and  to  search  whether  there  were  any  young  man  or  woman  of 
Israel  that  the  party  made  love  unto,  because  they  would  have 
them  only  out  of  holy  ends  undertake  their  religion.  And  in- 
deed their  rising  again  and  comino;  out  of  the  water  did  like- 
wise  signify  this,  that  they  had  left  their  filthiness  behind  and 
were  made  new  men,  henceforward  to  serve  God  in  righteous- 
ness and  holiness  all  the  days  of  then*  life. 

5.  It  is  a  profession  of  self-denial  and  taking  up  the  cross  if 
we  meet  with  it  in  om*  Christian  com'se.  For  waters  signify  in 
Scripture  afflictions  and  tribulations,  which  sometimes  go  over 
our  head  and  overwhelm  us.  And  accordingly  our  Saviour, 
speaking  of  liis  sufferings,  saith,  /  liave  a  baptism  to  be  bap- 
tized ivith,  &c.^,  and.  Are  you  able  to  be  baptized  with  the 
baptisin  that  I  am  baptized  ivithJ  ?  i.  e.  to  take  part  with  me 
in  my  sufferings  and  endurances  here  in  the  world  for  God's 
sake  ?  And  immediately  it  follows,  You  shall  indeed  be  bap- 
tized ivith  my  baptism,  you  shall  be  wet  in  blood,  and  baptized 
in  yoiu"  own  tears  and  sweat.  Whosoever  puts  on  Christ, 
takes  upon  him  his  sufferings,  and  renounces  (as  you  have 
heard)  all  those  things,  though  never  so  dear,  that  would 
divest  him  of  his  dearer  Saviour,  or  make  him  false  to  that 
covenant  into  which  he  doth  enter.  So  the  Samanteans  among 
the  Indians,  (as  Porphyry  ^  tells  us.)  as  soon  as  they  were 
chosen  to  be  of  the  society  of  those  divines  and  had  that  title, 
they  shaved  their  body,  and  received  a  stole  or  long  robe,  after 
which  they  renounced  irdffTjs  ovaias,  '  all  their  estates ;'  never 
thinking  of  returning  to  wife,  cluldren,  or  any  other  thing, 
making  no  account  of  them ;  but  wholly  employing  themselves 
in  the  things  of  God,  (as  his  words  are,)  they  lived  ayvvaiot 
■navres  koL  aKTrifioves,  '  without  wives  or  possessions,'  or  their 
former  enjoyments.  Such  a  white  garment  I  told  you  the 
Christians  sometime  received  in  token  of  their  putting  on 
Christ  Jesus  the  Lord ;  with  that  they  put  on  new  relations, 
and  espoused  another  interest,  and  did  profess  to  forsake 

^'  Biixtorf.  in  Vocab.      [in  t:         >'  Matth.  xx.  22. 
col.  408.]  ^   L.  4.  Ilfpi  (i7ro;(»yj  rif  ffiifr. 

^  Luke  xii.  50.  [§  17.] 


A  Discourse  concerning/  Baptism. 


23 


tatlier,  mother,  wife,  children,  houses,  lands,  and  all  things 
else  for  his  name's  sake,  and  to  call  nothing  theirs,  but  only 
Christ.  Which  likewise  we  cannot  deny  they  did  very  an- 
ciently represent,  by  signing  them  with  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
(innocently  enough  till  superstition  did  abuse  it,)  in  token  of 
the  crucified  afflicted  condition  into  which  they  must  be  willing 
to  enter  if  Christ  should  call  them  to  it.  And  so  we  may  in- 
terpret that  place,  Flfjht  the  good  fight  of  faith,  lay  hold  on 
eternal  life,  whereunto  thou  art  also  called,  and  hast  professed 
a  good  profession  before  many  tvitnesses^,  i.  e.  Endure  suffer- 
ings for  Christ's  sake,  for  thou  art  called  unto  it,  and  hast 
professed  in  baptism  thou  would  be  his  faithful  soldier  before 
many  witnesses  ;  i.  e.  saith  Hierome  *>,  "  before  the  people  of  God 
and  his  holy  angels  thou  didst  renounce  to  the  world,  and  all 
the  softnesses  and  vanities  thereof,  and  gave  up  thyself  to 
endure  hardship),  as  it  is  in  another  place,  like  a  good  soldier 
of  Jesus  Christ'^."  For  this  cause  it  was  perhaps  that  their 
baptisteria^  or  fonts  used  to  be  made  where  some  martyrs 
had  suffered,  that  so  they  might  be  put  in  mind  they  entered 
into  a  warfare,  wherein  they  must  resist  unto  blood,  striving 
against  sin.  Our  very  first  incorporation  into  Christ  is  in 
effect  an  expiration  to  the  world,  and  then  we  begin  to  die 
when  we  begin  to  live.  As  soon  as  ever  we  declare  for  Christ, 
and  are  listed  into  his  militia,  the  devil  raiseth  all  his  forces 
against  us,  and  we  must  not  expect  to  march  quietly  to  heaven. 
You  shall  read  of  nothing  but  sufferings  after  our  Saviour's 
baptism,  (and  most  of  the  rest  of  his  life  before,  for  thirty 
years,  which  we  may  suppose  had  less  trouble  in  it,  the  Holy 
Ghost  passes  over;)  as  if  he  Avould  tell  us,  that  when  by 
baptism  we  give  ourselves  to  him,  and  become  his  children,  we 
enter  upon  a  state  of  sufferings,  and  perhaps  must  ivash  our 
garments  again  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb^. 

And  having  thus  shewed  the  greatest  engagement  that  it 
can  lay  upon  us,  which  is,  to  lay  down  our  lives  for  Christ's 
sake  if  he  require  it ;  I  shall  pass  to  the  next  part  of  this  dis- 

a  I  Tim.  vi.  12.  c  2  Tim.  ii.  3. 

•>  ["  Sacerdotibus,  vel  ministris,        <'  V.  Dilherrum,  Disp.  de  Antiq. 

virtutibusque  coelestibus,"— Pseii-  Ritu  Funer.  [in  Uisput.  Acad.  xv. 

do-Hieron.  in  loc.  torn.  xi.  col.  1054  §  3.  p.  469.] 
C]  c  Rev.  vii.  14. 


24 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


eourse,  which  is  to  sIicav  what  the  meaning  and  intent  of  it  is 
on  God's  part,  and  what  blessings  are  thereby  conveyed  back 
again  to  us  who  thus  give  up  ourselves  to  him. 

ii.  God  by  his  minister  (that  doth  in  his  name  and  by  his 
authority  baptize)  receives  the  person  so  washed  into  the 
enjoyment  of  some  privileges  and  benefits  that  otherways  are 
not  ordinarily  to  be  enjoyed.  For  what  is  done  by  his  minister 
is  as  if  the  hand  of  God  should  do  it.  So  it  is  said  that  Jestis 
came  into  Judcea  and  baptized^ ;  and  the  Jews  say  to  John, 
He  to  whom  thou  hear  est  witness,  behold,  the  same  baptizeths ; 
and  again  it  is  said  that  Jesus  made  and  baptized  more 
disciples  than  John  ^ :  yet  we  are  told  that  Jesus  himself 
baptized  not,  but  his  disci2>lesK  That  which  olRcers  and  ser- 
vants do  by  commission  and  authority  of  their  master,  is  ac- 
counted to  be  his  action ;  and  so, 

J.  Fii'st,  God  receiveth  us  hereby  into  his  family,  to  be 
numbered  among  his  people,  of  whom  he  will  have  a  special 
care'^  It  is  the  seal,  as  it  were,  of  God  upon  us;  his  mark 
and  character,  whereby  he  owns  us  for  his  sheep,  and  knows  us 
from  all  other,  so  as  to  have  a  more  particular  inspection  over 
us  than  the  rest  of  the  world  that  make  not  this  profession  ; 
and  to  endow  us  with  certain  peculiar  favours,  even  before  we 
are  able  to  perform  any  part  of  our  duty  unto  him'.  It  is  the 
door  whereby  we  enter  into  the  church,  the  gate  that  lets  us 
into  Christ's  fold,  and  the  first  step  to  fellowship  with  God  and 
with  his  people.  Whence  it  was  the  font,  you  know,  used  to 
be  placed  at  the  door  or  entrance  of  the  church,  to  signify  that 
by  this  we  come  into  the  congregation  of  Christ's  disciples ;  but 
yet  that  by  baptism  we  are  brought  but  to  the  beginning  of 
religion,  and  must  make  a  further  progress  to  perfection,  till 
we  come  to  the  holy  place,  and  into  a  nearer  communion  with 
God.  The  minister  likewise  used  to  take  the  infants  into  his 
arms,  to  signify,  I  suppose,  God's  receiving  and  embracing  of 
them  with  a  loving  affection.  Yea,  he  used  to  kiss  them,  either 

^  John  iii.  22.              S  lb.  26.  oVoj  'UpnvcraKrjii  Tro\iToypa(f)ridevTfs. 

^  lb.  iv.  I.                i  lb.  2.  [Horn,  in   sanctum  Pascha,  §  5. 

^  So  St.  Chrysost.  speaks  to  the  torn.  iii.  p.  756  B.] 

neuly  baptized, — 'AKovere  o'l  crij/ne-  '  V.  August,  de  Catech.  Rud. 

pov  Ka\  Kara  rrjv  vvKra  ravrrjv  ei\-  rrjv  cap.  6.  [tom.  vi.  Col.  269.] 


A  Discourse  concernhuj  Baptism. 


25 


to  signify  that  love  of  God  to  them,  or  that  they  were  now  of 
that  community  and  body  whom  the  apostle  bids  to  salute  one 
another  with  a  holy  kiss"^.  And  all  this  is  supposed  in  the 
word  proselytes,  or  '  comers  unto '  God,  which  clearly  ai'gues 
some  relative  action  of  his,  which  is  receiving  and  entertaining 
them  graciously  as  those  he  will  have  in  his  favour.  But  more 
particularly, 

2.  Secondly,  hereby  God  receives  us  into  a  state  of  pardon 
and  forgiveness.  He  assures  us  that  Adam's  sin  shall  not  undo 
us,  and  that  every  sin  of  our  own  shall  not  exclude  us  out  of 
heaven ;  but  that  we  shall  have  the  benefit  of  repentance,  and 
an  allowance  to  retract  our  follies ;  yea,  and  grace  so  to  do  if 
we  will  make  use  of  it.  He  admits  us  into  that  covenant  of 
grace,  which  accepts  of  repentance  instead  of  imiocence,  and  of 
amendment  instead  of  an  unerring  obedience.  This  is  one  of 
the  special  favours  of  the  gospel  which  by  baptism  is  consigned 
unto  us,  that  former  iniquities  shall  not  be  remembered ;  and 
that  every  breach  of  our  covenant,  if  there  be  a  real  change 
wrought  in  us,  shall  not  void  it,  and  make  it  null  and  inef- 
fectual unto  us.  So  in  Mark  i.  4,  John  is  said  to  preach  the 
baptism  of  repentance  for  remission  of  sin.  And  Ananias 
saith.  Arise,  and  he  baptized,  and  wash  away  thy  sins'^.  And 
the  Greek  church  after  baptism  sings  those  words  three  times, 
"  Blessed  is  he  whose  iniquity  is  forgiven"."  As  those  who 
came  to  the  baptism  of  John  did  thereby  receive  a  distinguish- 
ing mark  and  character,  that  they  should  not  be  destroyed  in 
the  ruin  of  the  nation ;  insomuch  that  he  saith  to  the  Phari- 
sees that  desired  baptism.  Who  hath  warned  you  to  flee  from 
the  wrath  to  comeV  ?  so  they  that  are  baptized  into  Christ  do 
thereby  receive  a  pledge,  that  no  sin  which  they  stand  guilty 
of  shall  bring  the  anger  of  God  upon  their  heads  if  they  will 
keep  his  covenant ;  but  all  shall  be  crossed  out  which  they  are 
charged  with,  and  be  like  words  writ  in  the  water,  that  are 
obliterated  and  vanished,  nowhere  more  to  be  found. 

3.  Thirdly,  we  receive  hereby  the  promise  of  the  Spirit,  the 
effusion  of  which  is  likened  to  the  pouring  out  of  water'l,  and 
so  is  in  baptism  most  aptly  signified  and  represented.  /  ivill 
pour,  saith  the  prophet,  u'aters  on  him  that  is  thirsty,  and 


Rom.  xvi.  16. 
"  Acts  xxii.  16. 


<>  fJeorg.  Phela\ius,  lb.  [p.  493-] 
P  Matth.  iii.  7.       1  John,  iii.  5. 


26 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


floods  upon  the  dry  ground,  i.  e.  upon  the  Gentiles  wlio  were  as 
a  wilderness  ;  I  will  jiour  my  Spirit  on  thy  seed,  and  my  bless- 
ing upon  thy  offspring,  and  they  shall  spring  u])  as  among 
the  grass,  &c.''  In  which  place  that  there  may  be  a  prediction 
of  baptism  it  is  very  probable  ;  for  thus  much  some  of  the  Jews 
do  acknowledge,  that  the  jirophet  speaks  of  Gentiles  that 
should  be  proselytes  and  called  by  the  name  of  Israel,  and  we 
Christians  know  that  we  are  Abraham's  seed,  and  that  this 
promise  hath  a  respect  to  the  times  of  the  Gospel.  Rasi^,  out 
of  R.  Nathan,  thus  glosses  upon  the  fifth  verse  :  "  There  are 
four  sorts  of  converts  here  spoken  of', — One  shall  say,  /  am 
the  Lord's ;  these  are  they  that  are  proselytes  of  justice,  or  the 
most  perfect  converts  :  and  another  shall  call  himself  by  the 
name  of  Jacob ;  these  are  the  little  ones  of  the  ungodly  :  and 
another  shall  subscribe  luith  his  hand  to  the  Lord ;  these  are 
the  penitents,  or  the  men  that  repent ;  and  surname  himself 
by  the  name  of  Israel ;  these  are  the  strangers,  i.  e.  those  that 
observed  the  precepts  of  the  sons  of  Noah,  and  particularly 
renounced  idolatry  ;  and  therefore  this  part  of  the  verse  is 
by  another  rendered  Cl3''0m,  'they  that  fear  God.'" 

Where,  observe,  that  he  calls  one  sort  of  these  converts 
C^t^p,  '  the  little  ones^,'  who  were  not  thought  (it  seems)  to 
be  unmeet  to  be  made  members  of  a  church,  and  were  not 
judged  by  their  father's  admission  to  be  received;  but  were 
distinctly  admitted  by  themselves  by  the  decree  (as  they  tell 
us)  of  the  house  of  judgment.  And  observe  likewise,  that  all 
these  proselytes  being  said  to  spring  as  it  were  out  of  the 
water,  these  words  may  be  a  prophecy  of  Christian  baptism,  to 
which  a  promise  of  the  Spirit  is  annexed,  which  is  very  well 
signified  by  water ;  for  as  that  cleanses  and  purifies  from  filth, 
so  the  Spirit  of  God  is  the  sanctifier  of  God's  people,  purging 
and  cleansing  their  hearts  from  all  impurities.  This  being 
therefore  the  great  work  of  the  Spirit  so  well  represented  by 
water,  we  must  conclude,  that  when  the  minister  washeth  us 

r  Isa.  xliv.  3,  4.  "  V.  Raymund.  Pug.  fidei,  par.  2. 

^  [Lege  R.  fSolomon  Jarcln,  apud  c.i4.[§  22.P.458.]  SoSt.Chrysostom 

R.  Nathan,  in  Avotli,  teste  Vitringa  calls  the  new  baptized  persons  av6ri 

in  loc.  torn.  ii.  p.  477;  et  Raymund.  TrvevfiaTiKa,Tu  KoXa  Trjs  eKK\ricrias(j)v- 

Martin  iit  infra.]  ra,  k.  t.  \. — Orat.  prima  et  secunda 

'  cn-ri  'Di  D'jnp  ctidj  D'pns  de  Resurrect,  [al.  Horn,  de  sancto 

.Dnj  'bsn  Pascha,  §  5.  torn.  iii.  p.  755  C] 


A  Discourse  concerninrj  Baptism. 


97 


ill  God's  name,  God  thereby  promiseth  that  he  will  be  assistant 
to  us  by  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  that  he  will  send  upon  us  his 
grace,  that  we  may  be  saved  through  the  washing  of  regene- 
ration, and  the  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost^.  According  to 
that  of  the  apostle,  i  Cor.  vi.  i  j ,  the  place  before  mentioned, 
But  ye  are  washed,  hut  ye  are  sanctified,  hut  ye  are  justi- 
fied in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  and  hy  the  Spirit  of 
God :  whereas  those  words,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
refer  to  being  justified  ;  so  those  words,  hy  the  Spirit  of  our  God, 
refer  to  theu'  being  washed  and  sanctified.  So  in  that  place  of 
Ezekiel  xxxvi.  25,  after  he  hath  said  that  he  would  sprinkle 
them  with  clean  ivater,  it  follows  as  an  explication  of  it, 
(ver.  26,  27,)  A  new  heart  will  I  also  give  you,  and  a  neiv 
spirit  ivill  I  put  into  you,  &c.  And  I  u'ill  put  my  Spirit 
within  you,  and  cause  yon  to  ivalk  in  my  statutes.  All  which 
doth  sufficiently  shew,  that  in  this  washing  with  water  the 
Lord  engages  to  give  the  Spirit. 

4.  Fourthly,  we  receive  hereby  a  promise  of  resurrection 
unto  life.  Though  we  by  going  into  the  water  pi'ofess  that  we 
are  willing  to  take  up  the  cross  and  die  for  Christ's  sake ;  yet 
on  God's  part,  this  action  of  going  into  and  coming  out  of  the 
water  again  did  signify  that  he  would  bring  such  persons  to 
life  again  :  that  he  u'oukl  not  leave  their  soid  in  the  grave,  nor 
suffer  Ids  holy  one  to  see  corruption.  And  this,  according  to 
St.  Chrysostom  y,  (a  very  judicious  interpreter,  who  Avas  so  full 
of  the  spirit  of  St.  Paul,  that  he  dreamt  sometime  that  he  ap- 
peared to  him,)  is  the  meaning  of  that  difficult  place,  i  Cor. 
XV.  29,  Else  what  shall  they  do  that  are  haptized  for  the 
dead?  &c.,  i.  e.  for  their  dead  bodies 2.  Why  do  they  profess 
in  baptism  that  they  believe  the  article  of  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead  among  the  rest  of  the  articles  of  the  Christian  faith  ? 
Why  are  they  baptized  into  the  hope  and  expectation  of  it, 
of  which  (saith  he)  the  minister  gives  them  a  sign  or  symbol, 
8ta  TSiv  TTpayfxdrai;  avTu>v,  '  by  the  things  themselves'  that  he 
doth  ;  putting  them  in  and  taking  them  out  of  the  water, 


X  Tit.  iii.  5. 

y  'S,vvfTa(prffi(v  yap  avra  ev  T<o  ^an- 

Tov  ffaTTTiapaTos.  Mia  avrtj  nvaaTd- 
(Tii  (tnaWdyrj  apapTrjiidrcoV  8evT(p(t 


Se  avdcTTacris,  17  rov  craparos.  Chrys. 
Oral,  de  Resur.  [torn.  ii.  p.  443  D.] 

^  TcOf  veKpS)!',  TOVTCCTTl  TWV  (TMpd- 

Tcov.  [Horn.  xl.  §  I.  torn.  x.  p.  379 
C] 


28 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


which  is  a  sign  of  their  descending  into  the  state  of  the  dead, 
and  their  ascending  up  from  thence.  Now  what  good  do  they 
receive  by  baptism,  if  they  shall  not  rise  again,  but  remain 
always  in  the  grave  ?  If  any  think  it  harsh  to  render  those 
words, /or  their  dead  bodies,  by  these,  for  the  resurrection  of 
their  dead  bodies,  which  in  baptism  we  profess  to  believe,  it  is 
only  for  want  of  skill  in  the  short  manner  of  speaking  which 
the  Hebrews  use.  And  methinks  they  may  otherwise  be  inter- 
preted to  the  same  sense  more  plainly  after  this  manner : — 
Why  are  they  baptized  for  their  dead  bodies  ?  i.  e.  '  for  the 
benefit  and  profit  of  their  dead  bodies  V  for  v-n(p  denotes  '  the 
end'  which  an  agent  intends  in  an  action  (as  Gal.  i.  4,  Who 
gave  himself  vnep^  tuv  dfxapTLcav  t]]xG>v,  for  to  take  away  our 
sins),  and  there  can  be  no  end  upon  our  dead  bodies  which  we 
can  have,  but  that  they  may  live  again ;  therefore  for  this  end 
we  are  baptized,  that  they  may  rise  from  the  dead,  which  if 
they  should  not,  we  should  lose  (saith  the  apostle)  the  great 
benefit  which  in  baptism  was  consigned  ;  and  to  what  purpose 
should  we  use  that  rite?  It  may  be  rephed,  that  I  have  already 
mentioned  many  other  purposes  which  render  it  sufficiently 
beneficial.  But  if  it  be  considered  how  near  sin  and  death  are 
one  to  the  other,  we  shall  conclude  that  so  must  remission  of 
sin  and  tlie  resurrection  from  the  dead  no  together ;  and  that 
if  the  one  be  not  believed,  we  may  easily  doubt  of  the  other, 
or  at  the  best  we  shall  make  forgiveness  lame  and  very  imper- 
fect while  this  great  punishment  of  sin,  viz.  death,  remains 
unremoved.  And  therefore  Athanasius^  very  judiciously  makes 
these  to  comprehend  one  the  other,  in  that  advice  he  gives  to 
Marcellinus  about  the  use  of  the  psalms.  Where  he  tells  him 
among  other  tilings,  that  when  he  beheld  persons  baptized,  and 
saw  them  delivered  by  that  new  birth  d-o  r^?  (f>6apTrjs  yeve- 
aeas.  '  from  their  mortal  nativity,'  and  thereupon  would  admire 
the  lovingkindness  of  God  to  men,  he  might  properly  sing  the 
two  and  thirtieth  psalm,  Blessed  is  he  whose  transgression  is 
forgiven,  &c.  Which  both  plainly  declares  his  sense  of  the  end 
of  baptism,  which  was  to  deliver  men  from  death,  and  includes 
this  blessing  in  that  of  remission  of  sin,  one  part  of  which  is 
the  taking  off  that  punishment  which  entered  by  it.  Luther 

*  Ilepi  some  have  it,  which  is  of  ^  Epist.  ad  Marcellin.  [§  18. 
the  same  force.  torn.  i.  p.  994  A.] 


j4  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


29 


indeed,  in  his  version  on  the  Bible,  gives  another  interpretation 
of  this  place,  but  suitable  to  niy  present  discourse,  which  is 
grounded,  Dilherrus  thinks,  upon  that  practice  I  mentioned  of 
baptizing  in  the  places  where  the  martyrs  were  interred.  The 
sense  whereof  is  this,  (as  one  that  understands  the  language 
interprets  it  to  me,)  What  mean  they  to  be  baptized  uber  den 
Todten,  'over  the  dead?'  "  To  strengthen,"  saith  Luther  in  his 
gloss  upon  the  words,  "  or  confirm  the  resurrection,  they  used 
to  baptize  Christians  uher  den  Todten  Grabern  '  over  the  graves 
of  the  dead,'  the  intention  whereof  was  to  show  that  the  same, 
the  very  self-same  person  should  rise  again."  But  I  doubt  we 
shall  not  find  that  custom  so  ancient  as  St.  Paul's  days,  wherein 
there  had  been  but  few  martyrs ;  and  therefore  I  wave  it, 
thinking  the  other  more  clear  and  proper.  If  any  one  like  it, 
then  from  both  we  may  conclude,  that  the  waters  of  baptism 
are  hke  the  waters  of  heaven,  which  falling  upon  the  dry  earth 
and  the  dead  roots  of  plants,  makes  them  spring  forth  and  live 
again.  It  gives  us  assurance  that  we  sliall  not  always  sleep  in 
our  dust,  but  shall  spring  up  and  flourish  in  a  better  soil,  even 
the  garden  of  God,  never  to  die  or  wither  any  more.  And 
circumcision  seems  not  to  have  been  without  this  signification 
neither ;  for  they  used  to  cast  the  foreskin  cut  off  into  a  vessel 
full  of  dust,  to  signify  (it  is  hke)  that  the  circumcised  person  did 
renounce  the  devil  and  his  lusts^,  by  whose  impulse  Adam  sinned, 
and  so  died,  and  was  turned  again  into  dust ;  and  that  he  did 
cast  away  all  that  evil  concupiscence,  by  which  death  came  into 
the  world,  hoping  that  that  being  buried,  he  should  attain  the 
resurrection  of  the  body  and  live  again.  To  which  purpose 
a  very  ancient  book  (the  Zohar'')  applies  a  place  in  Job,  which 
shows,  though  not  the  sense  of  the  Scripture,  yet  their  sense  of 
circumcision.  In  my  flesh  I  shall  see  Ood",  i.  e.  by  circumcision 
(which  was  the  covenant  of  God  in  their  flesh)  come  to  im- 
mortal life.  And  a  tradition  they  have  to  this  purpose,  that 
when  a  man  is  signed  with  this  holy  mark,  he  is  made  worthy 
of  the  vision  of  God^.  And  indeed  this  was  done  then  ex  juepovj, 
as  AthanasiusS  speaks,  '  in  part  and  as  in  a  shadow  ;'  but  now 
we  put  off  wholly  our  yrjivriv  yeviaiv,  '  earthly  original,'  being 

<=  V.  Joseph,  de  Voisin,  de  Leg.       ^  [Ibid.  p.  49.] 
Div.  cap.  7.  [p.  48.]  s  De  Sabbato  et  Circumcis.  [§  6, 

<i  [Ibid.]  e  Job  xix.  26.        torn.  ii.  p.  59  B.] 


30 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


born  again  by  the  washing  of  regcnei-ation.  So  that,  as  the 
Lord  said  to  Joshua  when  he  circumcised  the  Israelites  at 
Gilgal,  /  have  taken  away  this  day  the  reproach  of  Egypt 
from  off  you^,  we  may  much  more  say  to  every  person  that  is 
baptized,  '  This  day  I  have  taken  away  the  reproach  of  thy 
earthly  generation,  and  the  reproach  of  the  corruption  ol"  death 
have  I  this  day  taken  away  from  thee.' 

5.  Fifthly,  baptism  is  not  improperly  called  by  divines  'a 
seal  of  all  these  things,'  i.  e.  a  rite  whereby  the  covenant 
between  God  and  us  is  confirmed,  whereby  we  assure  God  of 
our  fidelity,  and  he  assures  us  that  as  certainly  as  our  bodies 
are  washed  with  water,  so  certainly  will  he  give  us  of  his 
grace ;  and  if  we  perform  our  undertaking,  continually  assist 
us  with  the  Holy  Spirit,  pardon  our  sins,  deliver  us  from  the 
power  of  the  devil,  save  our  souls,  and  at  last  raise  our  bodies 
out  of  the  grave,  and  make  them  spiritual  and  immortal,  and 
unite  both  body  and  soul  together  in  eternal  glory.  That 
conditional  covenant  of  grace  and  mercy  that  was  sealed 
before  indefinitely  by  Christ's  blood,  is  now  sealed  by  baptism 
to  this  particular  person  which  receives  it.  Therefore, 

6.  Sixthly,  the  sum  of  all  is,  that  hereby  we  are  regenerated 
and  born  again.  It  is  the  sacrament  of  the  new  birth,  by 
which  we  are  put  into  a  new  state,  and  change  all  our  rela- 
tions ;  so  that  whereas  before  we  were  only  the  children  of 
Adam,  we  are  now  taken  to  be  the  children  of  God ;  such  of 
whom  he  will  have  a  fatherly  care,  and  be  indulgent  and  mer- 
ciful unto.  We  have  now  a  relation  likewise  to  Christ  as  our 
head,  and  to  the  Holy  Ghost  as  the  giver  of  life  and  grace. 
Yea,  herein  he  grants  remission  of  sin,  and  we  are  sanctified 
and  set  apart  to  his  uses.  We  being  hereby  given  to  him,  and 
he  accepting  of  us,  do  become  his  possession  and  pi'oper  goods; 
and  cannot,  without  being  guilty  of  the  foulest  robbery,  sin 
against  God.  We  are  made  hereby  the  temples  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  place  where  he  and  nothing  else  is  to  inhabit ;  and 
being  by  this  consecrated  to  him,  he  likewise  then  enters  upon 
his  possession,  and  we  are  said  thereby  to  receive  the  Holy 
Ghost;  so  that  if  we  run  into  sin,  we  defile  his  house,  and 
commit  the  greatest  profaneness  and  impiety,  and  may  be  said 
very  truly  to  do  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  God  whereby  we  were 

^  Josh.  v.  9. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


31 


sanctified.  Socrates  in  Plato '  well  saith,  that  every  man  is  by 
his  birth  tu)v  KT-qiiaroyv  tois  Beats,  '  one  of  God's  freeholds ;' 
and  therefore  concludes  it  as  unlawful  for  a  man  to  kill  himself, 
as  for  a  servant  to  run  away  from  his  master,  seeing  he  is  not 
his  own  goods,  nor  can  dispose  of  his  life  according  to  his 
pleasure.  In  this  second  birth  God  is  seized  again  of  us,  he 
owns  us  in  a  special  manner  for  his  children,  and  we  may  not 
without  committing  a  double  murder  sin  against  him,  and  may 
be  called  twice  dead  if  we  do ;  because  in  baptism  are  the 
beginnings  of  a  new  life,  and  the  spirit  of  life  takes  hold  of  us, 
and  as  far  as  is  agreeable  to  our  age  and  condition  we  are 
renewed  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  For  baptism  being  a  beginning 
of  our  performance  of  our  duty,  God  doth  likewise  in  it  begin 
proportionably  to  make  good  his  promise.  We  may  call  it 
therefore  with  St.  Cyprian,  genitalis  vnda^,  aqua  salutaris^, 
&c.,  'the  laver  of  regeneration;'  seeing,  as  the  apostle  saith"", 
by  one  Spirit  we  are  all  baptized  into  one  body,  &c.j  whereby 
he  intimates  that  the  Spirit  of  God  doth  accompany  this  water, 
and  therefore  we  must  be  in  a  sort  made  other  creatures.  I 
see  no  cause  to  leave  this  ancient  language,  which  may  have  a 
very  good  sense ;  and  none  1  suppose  will  deny  but  that  at 
least  a  relative  change  is  herein  made,  and  so  much  grace  and 
favour  is  conferred,  that  we  stand  upon  better  tci-ms  than  mere 
nature  did  instate  us  in.  Justin  Martyr",  relating  the  manner 
how  Christians  are  made,  (that  the  heathens  might  not  be 
offended  so  much  at  their  religion,)  speaks  of  this  matter. 
"  When  men  are  persuaded  of  the  things  that  we  teach,  and 
promise  to  live  accordingly,  they  fast,  and  pray,  and  beg  of 
God  remission  of  sin,  and  then  we  bring  them  to  the  water, 
and  so  they  are  born  again  after  the  same  manner  that  we  were 
regenerated :"  to  this  he  applies  that  place,  John  iii.  5,  Except 
a  man  be  born  again,  &c.  All  things  seem  to  grow  out  of 
water,  and  it  was  not  unfitly  made  by  one  of  the  ancient  wise 
men"  the  first  principle  of  all ;  so  that  it  may  well  signify  an- 


*  In  Phaedone.  [cap.  6.  p.  62  b.] 

^  [Ad  Donat.  p.  3.] 

1  [Ibid.  p.  2.]     °i  I  Cor.  xii.  13. 

"  Apolof?.  ii. — Kat  TpoTTOv  avaye- 
vrja-eas,  ov  Kai  rjfji.eis  avToi  auayevr)6r)- 
fi(v,  dvayevuvTai.  [al.  Apol.  i.  §  Cl. 
p.  79  D.] 


"  [Thales  of  Miletus  ; — see  Arist. 
Metaph.  i.  3.  §  5 ;  Cic.  Nat.  Deor. 
i.  10.  Diog.  Laert.  p.  18.  Just. 
Mart.  Cohort,  ad  Grsec.  pp.  9,  ii; 
Harm.  Irris.  Philos.  Gent,  ad  calc. 
Justin,  p.  404  B  ;  August.  Civ.  Dei, 
viii.  2.  tom.vii.  col.  191  B.  Thales 


32 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


other  birth,  a  new  plantatioa  in  a  better  soil,  which  is  watered 
by  daily  dews  and  showers  of  God's  heavenly  grace ;  and  in  it 
we  may  be  said  to  have  changed  our  parents,  and  all  our 
relations,  so  as  after  a  manner  to  become  new  creatures.  If 
Clemens  Alexandrinus  P  his  reading  of  that  place.  Matth.  iii.  17, 
be  right,  one  would  think  that  Christ  was  by  baptism  admitted 
to  his  ofSce,  and  had  a  kind  of  a  new  birth  in  it : — Thou  art 
my  beloved  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee ;  i.  e.  Now  have 
I  appointed  thee  to  thy  office ;  now  of  the  Son  of  Joseph  as 
thou  art  esteemed,  I  declare  thee  the  Son  of  God,  and  make 
thee  my  vicegerent.  That  which  was  perfectly  done  at  the 
resurrection  (to  which  those  words,  this  day  have  I  begotten 
thee,  are  applied^,)  was  begun  and  done  in  a  sign  at  baptism, 
when  the  Holy  Ghost  likewise  descended  upon  liim,  and 
anointed  him  unto  his  office.  And  so  in  aftertimes  they  used 
to  anoint  the  baptized  person  with  oil ;  to  represent,  I  suppose, 
that  God  took  him  to  be  his  son,  and  did  bestow  upon  him  the 
Holy  Spirit.  But  because  Clemens  must  be  thought  to  have 
expressed  rather  the  sense  than  the  very  words  that  were 
spoken,  let  us  consider  only  what  succeeded  our  Saviour's 
baptism,  and  it  will  tell  us  thus  much,  that  at  that  time  it  was 
that  God  first  owned  him  openly  for  his  Son ;  and  it  may  well 
teach  us  that  in  baptism  God  takes  us  to  be  his  children,  we 
are  received  under  his  shadow,  are  and  shall  be  endued  with 
this  Holy  Spirit,  according  as  it  follows  in  him ;  Christ  was  our 
i-noypa(f)r},  '  exemplar'  or  '  pattern ;'  and  "  being  baptized,  we 
are  illuminated ;  and  being  illuminated,  we  are  made  sons ; 
and  being  made  sons,  we  are  completed  ;  and  being  completed, 
we  are  made  immortaP."  There  is  notliino;  wanting  after  we 
are  baptized  to  the  enjoying  of  the  whole  of  this,  but  that  we 
be  faithful  in  God's  covenant,  and  follow  the  conduct  of  God's 
illuminating  and  Holy  Spirit ;  till  we  be  made  possessors  of 
that  immortality  unto  which  in  baptism  we  have  a  title  given 
us.  The  ancient  Christians  speak  of  high  illuminations,  where- 
withal God  pleased  then  to  grace  baptism ;  and  I  make  no 

may  have  been  guided  to  this  view  1  Acts  xiii.  33. 

by  the   earlier   Orphic  cosmogo-  'BanTi^ofievoi  (payn^oficda,  (fxoTi- 

nies ;  —  see  Alhenag.  Legat.  pro  ^ofxevoi  vlonowvfjLeda,  vloiroiovjitvoi 

Christian.  §  18.  ad  calc.  Justin.  TikeLoijxiBa,  rfXaovfifvoi  anadava- 

p.  294  B.]  TiCofieda.  [ibid.] 
P  Lib.  i.  Paedag.  [cap.  6.  p.  113.] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptisui. 


33 


no  question  but  they  speak  as  they  felt,  and  that  they  talk  not  of 
a  strange  change  then  wrought  which  never  was  :  but  if  any 
say  that  those  great  communications  of  the  Holy  Ghost  were 
proper  to  that  time  when  Christ  did  most  notably  attest  to  the 
truth  of  his  own  institutions  for  the  conviction  of  unbelievers, 
I  think  so  also :  for  young  plantations  needed  larger  effusions 
of  the  heavenly  dews  to  water  and  cherish  them.  But  yet  we 
may  conceive  that  there  are  still  some  operations  of  that  Spirit 
in  men's  hearts  at  baptism,  though  secret  and  insensible  unto 
us ;  and  I  profess  myself  one  of  those  that  labour  to  believe 
very  highly  of  Christ's  presence  with  all  his  own  ordinances ; 
though  if  any  cannot  savour  this,  I  will  not  contend  nor  fight 
in  the  dark,  but  desire  the  other  things  may  be  entertained 
which  are  certain,  and  then  there  will  be  sufficient  ground  to 
think  that  it  is  not  indifferent  whether  we  be  baptized  or  no ; 
and  that  it  is  not  a  naked  ceremony  that  neither  doth  good  nor 
harm,  as  some  men  seem  to  speak  against  the  constant  sense 
of  the  church  and  people  of  God. 

And  thus  much  may  suffice  concerning  my  thoughts  of  the 
first  particular,  wherein  you  have  had  a  short  account  of  the 
intent,  use  and  benefit  of  baptism.  It  remains  that  I  speak  a 
few  words  of  the  other  two  particulars  in  the  text,  and  show  in 
the  second  place, 

II.  Who  are  the  persons  to  be  baptized?  The  text^  will  not 
let  us  doubt  but  all  those  who  are  willing  to  embrace  Jesus  as 
the  Christ,  and  the  Son  of  the  living  God,  and  to  give  them- 
selves up  to  his  instruction  and  teaching,  are  thus  to  be 
initiated  and  entered  into  his  religion.  Only  it  is  scrupled, 
whether  those  that  cannot  express  such  a  willingness,  nor 
make  any  signs  of  it,  are  so  to  be  admitted  ;  and  therefore  all 
infants  are  by  some  excluded  from  these  waters,  as  subjects 
uncapable  either  to  make  any  such  profession  and  engage- 
ment, or  receive  from  God  any  such  benefit. 

This  point  hath  been  so  sifted,  even  to  the  very  bran,  that  I 
cannot  think  mine  eyes  so  acute  as  to  discern  any  little  argu- 
ment to  he  still  neglected  that  I  should  be  able  to  bolt  out. 
The  custom  of  the  church  hath  been  pleaded,  which  is  account- 
ed the  best  interpreter  of  a  doubtful  law  ;  and  the  Scriptures 

t  [misprinted  '  next'  in  the  later  editions.] 
PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  D 


34 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


have  been  searched  in  these  late  times  (more  I  think  than 
ever)  hy  many  learned  authors  in  every  one's  hands,  and  to 
such  excellent  purpose,  that  if  I  were  able  to  plead  the  infants' 
title  strongly,  my  defence  might  be  spared. 

I  will  therefore  briefly  dismiss  this  head  with  these  four 
considerations : — 

1.  First,  that  if  there  were  any  infants  in  this  person's 
family,  it  is  certain  they  were  baptized,  for  he  was  baptized, 
he,  and  all  his.  It  is  doubtful  indeed,  whether  there  were  any 
or  no ;  yet  it  is  considerable  (especially  in  conjunction  with 
other  arguments)  that  neither  here  nor  any  where  else  in  the 
whole  Scripture  are  they  excepted  (and  it  is  scarce  to  be 
thought  that  all  of  the  families  baptized  were  without  infants), 
nor  is  there  one  word  that  tends  to  the  excluding  of  them  from 
baptism.  But, 

2.  Secondly,  I  consider  that  infants  are  capable  to  be  en- 
gaged and  professed,  and  likewise  to  be  received  into  the 
grace  and  favour  of  God. 

Baptism  may  be  looked  on  either  as  a  sign  of  what  we  are 
to  be  in  our  futui'e  coui*se,  and  what  God  hath  done,  and  will 
do  for  us ;  and  so  all  must  grant  that  infants  are  as  capable  as 
others  to  receive  it ;  or  secondly,  as  a  seal  of  the  truth  of  God,_ 
under  which  notion  we  ordinarily  conceive  it,  and  then  they 
are  as  capable  likewise  as  grown  men  to  have  any  thing  con- 
veyed and  sealed  unto  them,  upon  such  conditions  afterwards 
to  be  performed ;  or  thirdly,  as  an  obligation  whereby  we  are 
tied  to  perform  those  conditions ;  and  fourthly,  as  a  privilege 
whereby  we  are  actually  instated  into  some  favours  and  enjoy- 
ments :  and  if  any  afiirm  that  in  these  two  regards  they  are 
uncapable,  let  them  remember  that  children  may  be  bound  by 
deeds  drawn  up  and  sealed  between  two  persons,  before  they 
understand  any  thing  at  all ;  and  that  a  child  may  be  crowned 
in  the  cradle,  and  it  will  stand  good  to  all  purposes.  A  parent 
may  contract  with  God  on  his  child's  behalf,  no  otherwise  than 
a  guardian  doth  in  the  behalf  of  a  minor  or  one  under  age, 
which  he  cannot  afterward  retract  Avhen  he  is  out  of  liis  pupil- 
age without  injustice,  and  being  hable  to  the  law,  if  the  contract 
be  judged  to  be  to  his  behoof  and  benefit.  As  in  the  inter- 
pretation of  law  that  is  an  act  of  the  pupil  or  child,  which  is 


A  Discourse  coiicemhig  Baptism. 


35 


done  in  its  name  and  foi-  its  good  by  liis  tutor  or  guardian ;  so 
may  God  be  pleased  graciously  and  favourably  to  accept  of  this 
act  of  the  parent,  laying  such  an  obligation  upon  the  child,  and 
Interpret  it  for  the  child's  own  act  and  deed,  so  conferring 
his  graces  upon  it,  and  expecting  performance  of  faith  and 
obedience,  and  looking  upon  it  as  so  engaged  that  it  shall  be 
properly  said  to  break  a  vow  and  covenant  if  it  sin  against 
him.    And  this  will  still  be  clearer  from  a  third  consideration. 

3.  Thirdly,  that  children  are  in  the  power  of  the  parent,  and 
they  have  a  jus  or  right  unto  them,  so  as  they  have  to  any 
other  things  that  are  their  proper  goods.  They  may  therefore 
make  an  offering  of  them  to  God,  and  dedicate  them  to  his 
uses  as  well  as  land  or  money ;  and  there  is  no  question  but 
God  will  as  well  accept  of  them  as  of  any  thing  else  that 
they  consecrate  to  him,  and  take  them  to  his  portion,  so  that  it 
shall  be  a  sacrilegious  act  for  these  infants  hereafter  to  alienate 
themselves  from  him,  and  convert  themselves  to  the  uses  and 
service  of  any  other. 

This  the  deniers  of  infant-baptism  cannot  deny,  that  it  is  very 
fit  parents  should  by  solemn  prayers  and  profession  devote  and 
consecrate  their  children  to  God,  and  make  an  open  oblation  of 
them  before  all  to  liis  service,  only  they  would  not  have  it  done 
by  washing  with  water ;  which  is  as  much  as  to  grant  that 
they  would  have  the  thing  done,  but  not  the  ceremony  or  rite 
used,  and  that  they  are  capable  of  the  thing  signified,  but  not 
of  the  sign,  of  the  greater  matter,  but  not  of  the  less  :  and  as 
it  seems  to  me  they  make  a  controversy  where  there  need  be 
none ;  for  if  they  are  to  be  devoted  to  God,  baptism  being  the 
way  wherein  we  devote  ourselves  to  him,  and  being  so  signifi- 
cant of  our  duty,  it  is  the  fittest  way  wherein  to  devote  oar 
children  to  his  use. 

4.  Fourthly,  Christ  may  well  be  conceived  to  include  them, 
when  he  bids  his  disciples  Qo  and  baptize  all  nations  in  the 
name  of  the  Father,  &c.',  for  that  was  no  more  than  a  com- 
mission to  go  and  make  proselytes,  and  engage  them  by 
baptism  in  Christ's  religion.  Now  I  intimated  before  that 
there  were  young  strangers  admitted  by  the  Jews,  i.  e.  infants 
or  little  children  were  made  proselytes  to  their  way  of  worship, 

t  Matth.  xxviii.  19. 
u  2 


36 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


and  it  is  plain  that  all  wei-e  baptized  into  Moses  in  the  sea, 
and  in  the  cloud  both  old  and  young,  the  infants  as  well  as 
the  grown  men  passed  through  the  water,  and  were  all  covered 
with  the  cloud ;  and  likewise  favores  sunt  ampliandi,  where 
none  are  excepted,  favours  and  benefits  are  to  be  enlarged 
unto  all ;  and  to  spare  further  labour  of  a  long  discourse,  let 
me  only  remember  you  how  Moses  did  take  the  children  into 
covenant  with  God  as  .well  as  the  rest ; —  You  stand  this  day 
all  of  you  before  the  Lord  your  God,  your  captains  of  your 
tribes,  your  elders,  and  your  offi,cers,  with  all  the  men  of 
Israel,  your  little  ones,  your  ivives,  &c.,  that  thou  shouldst 
enter  into  covenant  with  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  into  his  oath, 
which  tlie  Lord  thy  God  maketh  with  thee  this  day^.  Why 
should  we  not  then  think  that  the  Mediator  of  the  neiv  cove- 
nant did  include  these  little  ones  as  well  as  others  in  that  uni- 
versal expression,  and  that  he  would  have  them  enter  into 
covenant  with  God  ?  If  any  ask  why  our  Saviour  did  not  then 
expressly  mention  them,  the  answer  will  be  easy ;  that  there 
was  no  need  for  him  to  express  every  particular  subject  of 
baptism,  seeing  it  was  so  well  known  before  by  the  common 
practice  of  the  Jews,  and  by  the  former  covenant ;  and  there- 
fore liis  chief  intent  in  those  words  was  to  tell  them  in  what 
manner  and  form  they  should  now  baptize,  viz.  In  the  name 
of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  which  had  not  been 
yet  used,  but  now  was  to  be  every  where  practised.  I  have 
no  mind  to  add  more,  but  beseech  the  Lord  that  all  those 
who  dispute  against  infant-baptism  may  behave  themselves  like 
men  baptized ;  and  remember  that  humility,  modesty,  and 
peaceableness  of  spirit  are  great  doctrines  in  the  Christian 
school,  and  that  if  so  many  good  and  learned  men  have  erred 
(as  they  think),  then  so  may  they. 

A  few  words  concerning  the  third  general  head  of  our  dis- 
course may  perhaps  lend  a  little  further  hght  to  this  business, 
and  manifest  that  there  is  not  so  much  required  as  some  ima- 
gine to  qualify  and  capacitate  a  person  for  baptism.  For, 

III.  It  is  said  here  that  napaxpyifJ-f^,  '  straightway,'  '  immedi- 
ately,' without  any  further  proof,  he  was  baptized.  If  you 
look  back,  you  shall  find  that  Paul  and  Silas  being  close  pri- 
"  I  Cor.  X.  2.  ^  Deut.  xxix.  lo,  ii,  12. 


A  Discourse  concerniny  Baptism. 


37 


souers  at  Philippi,  there  was  about  midnight  a  great  earth- 
quake, that  made  both  the  prison  and  the  jailor  also  shake, 
and  opened  both  the  doors  of  the  prison  and  of  the  heart  of 
the  keeper;  for  this  strange  trembling  of  the  earth,  it  is  very 
likely,  caused  him  to  apprehend  that  these  were  divine  persons, 
for  whom  such  a  wonder  was  wrought,  and  so  to  come  trem- 
bling before  them,  and  inquire  what  he  must  do  to  be  saved  Y. 
They  told  him,  that  he  must  believe  o)^  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
accordingly  spake  to  him,  the  word  of  the  Lord^,  i.  e.  proved 
to  him  that  Jesus  was  the  Son  of  God,  and  taught  men  the 
true  religion  and  way  to  life.  The  very  same  hour  he  took 
them  and  washed  their  stripes,  and  then  was  washed  himself  in 
the  name  of  Christ. 

By  this  it  will  appear,  that  though  a  profession  of  faith  be 
required,  yet  not  a  distinct  belief  of  every  thing  in  Christ's  re- 
ligion, for  that  could  not  in  the  space  of  an  hour  be  compre- 
hended. He  therefore  having  a  general  knowledge  that  Jesus 
was  the  Son  of  God,  and  a  teacher  sent  fi'om  heaven  to  do  men 
great  good,  and  professing  a  readiness  to  be  taught  by  him,  was 
received  by  baptism  into  Christ's  school  to  learn  of  him.  That 
such  a  knowledge,  together  with  a  repentance  of  their  fore-past 
evil  life,  did  sufficiently  qualify  for  baptism,  you  may  see  by 
consulting  these  places,  Acts  ii.  All  the  sermon  of  the  apostle 
tends  to  no  other  purpose,  but  to  prove  that  Jesus  whom  they 
crucified  was  the  promised  seed  ;  which  he  demonstrates  from 
his  resurrection,  and  the  effects  of  it,  that  abundantly  declared 
he  was  made  Lord  and  Christ^.  When  this  was  cleared  to 
them,  their  hearts  were  pricked  to  think  what  they  had  done ; 
and  he  exhorts  them  to  repent  of  it  and  receive  baptism,  which 
thi'ee  thousand  of  them  immediately  did,  as  you  read  ^ ;  and 
continued  steadfastly  in  the  apostles'  doctrine'^,  i.  e.  learning 
of  that  religion  to  which  they  saw  so  much  reason  to  addict  them- 
selves. So  we  find  that  Philip  preached  Jesus  to  the  eunuchd, 
and  required  only  this  profession  of  him,  that  he  believe  ivith 
all  his  heart  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  then  he  zvent 
down  into  the  ivater  tvith  him  and  baptized  him^.  And 
again,  Paul  was  pressed  in  spirit,  and  testified  to  the  Jeivs  that 
Jesus  ivas  Christ^ ;  and  then.  Crispus  believed,  on  the  Lord 

y  Acts  xvi.  29,  31.  lb.  31,  32.        a  Acts  ii.  36.         ^  jb^^j 

<■  lb.  42.  Acts  viii.  35.  c  n,.  ^j^.  f  Acts  -xviii.  5. 


38 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


tuith  his  whole  house ;  and  many  of  the  Corinthians  hearing 
believed,  and  were  baptized  s.  So  in  all  other  places,  you  will 
find  there  was  so  little  space  between  their  preaching  and  bap- 
tizing, that  they  could  not  well  be  taught  more  than  this,  that 
he  was  the  Messiah  or  Christ  that  was  expected,  and  that  all 
must  be  obedient  to  him.  So  that  this  washing  did  admit 
them  and  engage  them  to  be  his  disciples,  to  be  taught  and  in- 
structed by  him,  and  to  learn  the  way  of  God  perfectly,  which 
they  could  not  but  Relieve  he  would  acquaint  them  withal, 
being  a  messenger  sent  by  God  unto  them.  And  this  is  most 
plainly  intimated  in  the  words  of  that  commission  Christ  deli- 
vered unto  them.  Go  and  teach  or  disciple  all  nations,  &cg.^ 
Avhere  there  are  two  teachings,  the  one  before,  the  other  after 
baptism.  The  first  can  be  no  more  than  a  persuasion  of  them 
to  become  the  disciples  of  Christ,  and  put  themselves  into  his 
school  because  he  was  the  Son  of  God ;  and  then,  after  they 
were  baptized,  follows  a  more  accurate  and  full  instruction  of 
them  in  all  the  parts  of  their  duty,  Avhich  is  meant  by  those 
words,  bibdaKovTis  avrow,  &c.,  teachinrj  them  to  observe  all 
things  ivhatsoever  I  have  commanded  you.  Where  the  word 
for  teaching  is  different  from  that  in  the  foi'mer  verse,  /xa^Tjrew- 
o-are,  and  signifies  a  larger  knowledge  of  Christ's  doctrine, 
Avhich  they  had  engaged  themselves  to  observe,  being  assured 
the  Son  of  God  could  teach  tlicm  nothing  but  the  truth. 

And  this  I  take  to  be  the  reason  why  so  many  fell  off  again 
from  this  profession,  when  the  displeasing  doctrines  of  Christ 
came  to  be  pi-actised.  They  had  not  considered  what  it  would 
cost  them  to  be  Christians,  but  only,  as  I  said,  were  in  general 
and  in  some  measure  convinced  that  he  was  God's  Son,  and 
that  they  must  be  his  disciples ;  and  so  they  liked  no  longer  to 
be  his  followers,  when  their  carnal  interests  came  to  be  touch- 
ed, and  Avhen  they  saw  that  he  was  such  a  Master  as  would  not 
let  them  have  their  own  will,  nor  enjoy  this  present  world,  nor 
(in  one  word)  serve  two  masters,  God  and  their  mammon  too. 
Though  they  did  in  gross  (as  I  said)  profess  to  forsake  their 
sins  and  lead  a  holy  life  ;  yet  when  they  came  to  be  informed 
in  the  particulars  of  self-denial,  and  such  hard  lessons,  they  re- 
turned rather  with  the  dog  to  the  vomit,  and  the  washed  sow 
to  the  wallowino;  in  the  mire'. 

E  Acts  xviii.  8.  Matth.  xxvili.  19,  20.  ■  2  Pet,  ii.  22. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


39 


That  I  may  put  an  end  to  this  discourse,  let  me  shew  you  a 
little  how  it  will  be  useful  to  you,  and  have  an  influence  upon 
practice ;  and  if  you  be  believing  and  obedient,  I  shall  be  con- 
fident I  have  not  made  you  misspend  an  hour  in  perusing  Avhat 
I  have  represented. 

USE  I. 

Take  notice  of  the  great  wisdom  of  our  Lord,  that  though  he 
hath  left  us  an  outward  ceremony  still  in  his  church,  yet  it  is 
such  an  one  that  signifies  not  one  thing,  but  the  whole  religion ; 
and  not  only  signifies,  but  engages  us  unto  our  duty.  You 
have  seen  that  baptism  expresseth  the  whole  covenant  of  grace 
between  God  and  us,  and  whereas  the  Jews  had  several  rites 
and  usages  to  set  forth  and  represent  several  duties,  Christ  hath 
left  us  only  this,  together  with  the  bread  and  wine  in  the  other 
sacrament ;  which  are  such  as  are  easy  to  be  had,  and  to  be 
practised ;  and  are  simple,  plain,  and  easy  to  be  understood ; 
and  do  also  shew  us  our  whole  duty,  and  likewise  lay  engage- 
ments upon  us  to  perform  it ;  so  that  we  cannot  use  either  of 
them,  but  thereby  we  are  bound  to  be  wholly  God's,  and  en- 
tirely devoted  to  his  service.    And  therefore, 

USE  II. 

Secondly,  let  me  strongly  plead  with  you  in  the  behalf  of 
God,  to  take  heed  to  yourselves  and  your  ways  according  to 
his  word.  You  are  all  baptized  into  Christ,  and  thereby  you 
have  put  on  Christ ;  you  have  solemnly  engaged  yourselves  to 
"  live  righteously,  soberly,  and  godlily  in  this  present  evil 
world;"  and  as  the  apostle  saith  of  circumcision,  so  I  say  to 
you,  /  testify  to  every  man  that  is  haj^tized,  that  he  is  a 
debtor  to  observe  the  whole  Gospel^.  What  then  have  you  to 
do  with  the  devil,  whom  you  have  renounced  ?  Why  are  you 
so  in  love  with  the  world,  which  you  have  forsaken,  and  from 
which  you  are  divorced?  Why  are  you  so  tender  of  the  in- 
terests of  the  flesh,  which  you  promised  to  mortify  and  ci'ucify 
together  with  Christ  ?  What  is  the  reason  that  you  renounce 
Christ  in  your  lives,  as  if  you  were  ashamed  of  his  pro- 
fession ? 

Is  baptism  but  a  cold  ceremony  ?  or  do  you  think  the 
washing  of  the  flesh  will  save  you?   Not  only  the  apostle' 
^  Gal.  v.  3.  1  I  Pet.  iii.  21. 


40 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


confutes  you,  but  you  shall  hear  yourselves  put  to  silence  out 
of  the  mouth  of  a  very  Jew.  "  He  that  bclieveth  not  as  he 
ought,"  saith  the  author  of  the  book  Nitzachon,  "  his  circum- 
cision doth  not  make  him  a  Jew ;  but  he  that  cloth  believe 
aright  is  a  Jew,  though  he  be  not  circumcised"^."  One  would 
not  expect  such  language  from  them  that  glory  in  circum- 
cision ;  but  God  hereby  shames  such  outward  professors,  tliat 
glory  in  baptism  as  they  did  in  circumcision,  though  they  be 
not  the  followers  of  faithful  Abraham^.  As  long  as  their  ears, 
and  tongue,  and  heart  were  uncircumcised  (for  of  all  those  we 
read),  their  foreskin  remained ;  and  as  long  as  our  thoughts, 
and  words,  and  ways  are  impure,  we  are  in  effect  unbaptized. 

If  then  outward  baptism  Avill  not  save,  why  do  you  not 
cleanse  yourselves  from  all  filthiness  both  of  flesh  and  spirit, 
and  perfect  holiness  in  the  fear  of  God  ?  Do  you  not  at  all 
value  the  promises  of  God  ?  Is  it  no  favour  to  be  his  children, 
to  have  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  an  inheritance  among  those 
that  are  sanctified  tlirough  faith  ?  Or  is  there  any  other  way 
•wherein  these  can  be  attained  ?  Can  you  find  a  shorter  cut  to 
heaven  by  some  other  passage  ?  Assure  yourselves  that  there 
is  no  other  covenant  whereby  to  pai'take  of  these  promises,  but 
that  covenant  which  is  consigned  by  baptism,  whereby  we 
stand  engaged  to  the  performance  of  such  duties  as  our  Sa- 
viour doth  require.  We  shall  miserably  flatter  and  abuse  our- 
selves, if  we  imagine  to  come  to  heaven  any  other  way  than 
through  the  covenant  of  baptism ;  wherein  we  promise  to  for- 
sake all  the  enemies  of  God,  and  to  adhere  and  cleave  to  liim 
faithfully  and  loyally  against  all  the  persuasions  and  tempta- 
tions of  the  devil,  world,  and  flesh ;  and  therefore  unless  we 
can  shew  a  new  gospel,  and  be  baptized  over  again  by  the  ap- 
pointment of  God,  and  obtain  some  easier  and  more  pleasing 
conditions,  let  us  arm  ourselves  against  and  bid  defiance  unto 
them,  and  resolve  that  no  lust  shall  escape  with  its  life.  What! 
Art  thou  a  Christian,  and  as  fond  of  the  pleasures  of  the  world 
as  a  Pagan  ?  as  loth  to  displease  the  flesh,  as  if  thou  hadst 
been  initiated  in  the  impure  mysteries  of  the  heathen  ?  as  co- 
vetous, as  if  thou  wert  an  idolater,  and  didst  worship  a  god  of 
gold?  as  sensual,  beastly,  devilish  in  thy  affections,  passions, 

"  V.  Joseph,  de  Voysin,  de  leg.  "  Exod.  vi.  12.  Jer.  vi.  10.  ix, 
Div.  cap.  44.  [p.  629.]  26. 


A  Discourse  concerning/  Baptism. 


41 


and  conversation,  as  if  thou  wcrt  soifle  black  African,  and  hadst 
never  been  enlightened  ?  Oh  !  do  not  live  as  if  thou  hadst  been 
baptized  in  the  devil's  name,  and  hadst  sworn  to  be  his  bond- 
man, and  entered  a  protestation  against  God  and  Christ,  and 
all  communion  with  heaven.  0  hve  not,  1  beseech  you,  as  if  it 
were  your  religion  for  to  sin ;  as  if  you  had  been  baptized  in  a 
ditch,  and  washed  with  puddle-water,  and  had  professed  to  be 
as  dirtily  and  basely  employed  as  ever  you  were  able.  Did 
your  baptism  signify  that  you  should  be  drowned  in  drink  ? 
that  you  should  be  buried  vilely  and  covetously  in  the  earth  ? 
that  you  should  rise  and  lift  up  your  head  against  heaven? 
that  you  should  fill  the  air  with  oaths,  and  blasphemies,  and 
noisome  speeches?  and  that  you  should  defy  God,  and  all 
above  ?  No,  the  devil  himself  durst  not  urge  a  witch  to  make 
such  a  covenant  with  him ;  and  therefore  his  art  and  subtlety 
is  to  make  men  live  after  this  profane  sort,  though  they  make 
not  such  a  profession ;  and  he  labours  to  baptize  and  drench 
their  souls  in  this  belief,  that  the  covenant  of  grace  signifies  all 
on  God's  part,  and  nothing  at  all  on  theirs.  They  are  even 
swallowed  up  in  these  conceits,  that  they  shall  enjoy  pardon, 
grace,  and  salvation,  and  be  privileged  from  wi-ath  to  come ; 
and  in  the  meantime,  take  care  only  to  do  as  they  please,  to 
live  vypbv  fiiov,  as  the  heathens'  phrase  is",  '  a  moist,  soft,  and 
delicate  life,'  and  to  swim  to  heaven  in  rivers  of  pleasure  and 
carnal  delisrhts.  What  swarms  and  herds  of  followers  should  a 
man  have  that  went  about  and  preached  such  a  baptism  for 
the  commission  of  sins  ?  but  there  is  no  need  any  one  should  do 
the  devil  that  service  ;  for  the  baptism  of  Christ  is  made  one  of 
his  mysteries,  and  all  our  preaching  cannot  root  out  this  bcHef, 
that  Christ  will  be  tlie  author  of  eternal  salvation  to  them  that 
do  not  obey  him.  But  it  is  as  clear  as  the  light,  that  a  cove- 
nant is  between  two  persons,  and  both  are  engaged  to  some 
performances;  and  that  God  is  no  otherwise  bound  in  this 
baptismal  covenant  than  we  are  bound  also ;  and  that  he  gives 
pardon  upon  no  other  conditions  but  these,  that  we  forsake  the 
devil,  the  world,  and  all  the  lusts  of  the  ficsli.  If  we  therefore 
renounce  this  part,  then  we  discharge  him  of  all  that  he  hath 

"  [Vid.  Athen.  Deipnos.  lib.  vi.  p.  465.  Chrysost.  in  Rom.  hom. 
cap.  72.  p.  258  b;  Junium  in  prov.  24.  torn.  ix.  \t.Ci()()  E;  Steph.Thes. 
'  Uvida  vita,'  inter  adagia  Erasmi,    Gr.  9760  A.] 


42 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


promised.  And  the  truth  is,  it  is  very  ridiculous  to  imagine 
that  God  should  wash  us  there  clean,  that  ever  after  we  misht 
be  as  foul  as  we  please.  As  if  a  Muscovian  Christian  who  spits 
upon  the  ground  with  indignation P  when  he  renounces  the 
devil  in  baptism,  should  presently  fall  do^vn  and  lick  it  up 
again.  Or,  as  if  one  should  put  on  a  garment  of  hght,  be  clad 
with  a  white  robe,  that  he  might  sweep  chimneys,  and  rake  in 
kennels,  or  lead  dung-carts  about  the  streets.  K  we  be  the 
children  of  the  light,  then  we  must  have  no  fellowship  with  the 
unfruitful  works  of  darkness,  nor  bemire  oui"selves  in  the  filth 
and  dirt  of  the  world.  If  we  be  Christ's  disciples,  we  must  not 
only  make  a  face  and  spit  when  we  hear  the  devil  named,  but 
we  must  abhor  his  works,  and  defy  all  his  filthy  lusts,  and  have 
our  very  stomach  rise  at  all  that  comes  from  hell.  And  so  men 
would,  were  they  not  juggled  into  a  behef  that  they  defy  the 
devil,  while  he  embraces  them  in  his  arms.  I  remember  a  story 
in  the  life  of  a  Romish  reUgiousq,  how  that  she  should  see  one 
day  in  a  vision  the  soul  of  a  sinner  dragged  to  hell,  and 
beyond  the  mercy  of  purgatory,  •'  for  not  having  in  account  the 
spiritual  treasures  of  the  church,  but  despising  both  indulgences 
and  all  other  graces  wliich  she  grants  her  children."  So  doth 
the  devil  labour  to  nurse  in  men's  heai'ts  a  persuasion  that 
outward  thincrs  can  save  them,  and  that  he  can  do  them  no 
harm  if  they  be  baptized,  keep  the  church,  say  their  prayers, 
and  receive  the  minister's  blessing,  which  is  all  they  think  that 
baptism  engages  them  imto :  and  they  make  the  same  use  of 


P  [Sigismund  Baro  in  Comment. 
Rer.  Muscov.  p.  37.  The  same 
practice  is  reported  of  the  Christians 
of  Ethiopia  by  Baratti,  —  Travels, 
&c.  p.  141.] 

1  SoBur  Maria  Maddalena  de 
Patsi.  [al.  Pazzi, — Act.  Sanct.  Bol- 
land.  in  Mai.  25.  tom.  vi.  p.  206  F. 
In  the  life  of  the  saint,  WTitten  in 
Italian  by  Fr.Vincentio  Puccini,  her 
ghostly  father  or  confessor,  and 
translated  into  Enghsh  by  G.  B. 
8vo.  Cologne,  1619,  the  same  anec- 
dote is  related,  chap.  hii.  p.  196.  It 
is  not  contained  however  in  the 
abridged  French  version  of  the  same 
work  by  Father  Lezin  de  Sainte 


Scholastique,  provincial  of  the  re- 
formed Carmelites  of  Touraine,trans- 
lated  anew  into  Enghsh  by  Dr. 
Thos.  Smith  of  Magd.  coll.  Oxod, 
with  a  preface  "  concerning  the  na- 
ture, causes,  concomitants,  and  con- 
sequences of  Exstacy  and  Rapture," 
4to.  Lond.  16S7.  This  celebrated 
saint,  whose  baptismal  name  was 
Catharina,  was  the  daughter  of  Geri 
de  Pazzi  and  Maria  Buondelmenti, 
both  descended  from  illustrious  fa- 
milies in  Florence.  She  was  bom 
April  2,  1566,  took  the  vows  of  re- 
ligion Jan.  30,  1583,  became  one  of 
the  chief  ornaments  of  the  Carmel- 
ite order,  and  died  May  25, 1607.] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


43 


Christ  that  others  do  of  the  pope,  thinking  to  buy  a  pardon  (if 
they  have  not  one  already)  by  the  profession  of  such  a  hoHness 
as  the  devil,  if  he  were  incarnate,  need  not  be  afraid  of,  but 
might  swear  he  would  maintain.  O  wliat  pity  is  it  that  Christ 
should  be  thus  abused,  and  his  institutions  perverted,  and  souls 
undone,  when  it  is  so  plain  what  he  would  have  us  to  do  that 
wc  may  be  saved  ! 

But  will  not  some  little  sprinklings  of  holiness  serve  the 
turn?  may  some  say.  May  we  not  allow  some  place  for  self- 
pleasing,  and  gratify  our  own  desires  sometimes,  seeing  we 
wallow  not  always  in  filthiness  ?  No ;  baptism,  though  only 
upon  the  face,  signifies  the  washing  of  the  whole  man  from  spi- 
ritual pollutions ;  and  though  only  once  administered,  puts  us 
into  a  state  of  purity,  which  must  not  willingly  admit  of  any 
defilement.  And  let  those  men  know  that  have  their  good 
moods,  their  cold  fits  of  repentance  and  their  hot  fits  of  zeal, 
that  use  religion  as  the  papists  do  holy  water,  when  they  are 
entering  into  the  church  and  going  to  perform  some  devotion, 
that  Christ  owns  no  such  disciples.  They  were  not  baptized  in 
lukewarm  water,  but  were  engaged  in  a  state  of  mortification, 
and  entered  into  Christ's  death;  and  he  expects  a  constant 
performance  of  obedience.  There  were  a  people  in  Illyi'icumi" 
that  were  washed  but  three  times  in  all  their  lives,  at  their 
birth,  at  their  marriage,  and  at  their  death.  And  they  may 
be  a  picture  of  most  Christians  amongst  us,  who  in  their  infancy 
are  washed  in  Christ's  name ;  and  then  perhaps  against  some 
solemn  time,  when  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper  is  near, 
they  begin  to  put  away  their  sins,  and  perhaps  baptize  them- 
selves in  tears,  and  deck  up  themselves,  as  though  they  would 
meet  the  bridegroom  and  be  married  unto  him  ;  and  of  this  you 
shall  hear  no  more  (unless  at  such  a  time  as  that)  till  death 
tell  them  that  he  can  stay  no  longer,  and  some  sickness  arrests 
them ;  then  they  begin  to  slubber  and  cry,  to  sigh  and  groan, 
as  if  by  tears  they  could  wash  away  their  guilt,  and  by  a  few 
sighs  and  good  wishes  blow  away  the  black  clouds  of  wrath 
that  hang  over  their  heads.  They  make  religion  to  be  a  few 
strong  pangs  of  devotion  at  certain  times  of  their  life,  and 
Christ  to  be  pleased  with  any  thing,  glad  of  any  company  ;  and 


f  [The  Dai  (lanes,]  /Elian.  1.  4.  \'ar.  Hist.  c.  i. 


44 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


heaven  to  be  an  empty  void  place  that  wants  inhabitants; 
much  Hke  to  the  new-found  Avorld,  whither  we  send  the  most 
rascal  people.  But  Christ  will  shortly  appear  to  all  the  world, 
to  confute  all  such  men,  and  he  Avill  drench  them  in  seas  of 
fire,  the  floods  of  his  wrath  shall  overwhelm  tliem.  and  they 
shall  never  rise  again. 

But  is  there  such  great  danger  then  ?  may  some  say.  Will 
not  God  be  something  more  favourable  to  us  than  other  men, 
and  will  not  the  waters  of  baptism  a  little  quench  and  cool  the 
flames  ? 

Cool  them?  No,  they  will  be  like  water  upon  lime,  which 
will  make  it  burn  the  hotter.  Even  this  will  be  pleaded  against 
you,  that  you  were  baptized.  If  a  soldier  sworn  to  Caesar 
should  forsake  his  camp  and  fly  to  the  Turks,  would  he  not  be 
punished  more  than  a  stranger  when  he  was  taken,  and  suffer 
as  a  false  and  treacherous  fellow,  as  a  runagate  and  a  perjui'ed 
person  ?  Who  would  admit  of  such  a  plea  from  his  mouth, — I 
am  no  forsworn  wretch,  I  never  denied  Csesar,  nor  renounced 
my  allegiance  to  him ;  no  man  ever  heard  me  speak  a  word 
against  him  ?  Might  it  not  easily  be  returned  to  him, — But 
thou  didst  deny  him  in  thy  actions,  thou  hast  more  than 
forsworn  him,  for  thou  hast  fought  against  him ;  yea,  thou  hast 
joined  with  a  tyrant,  with  the  greatest  enemy  the  emperor 
hath,  and  the  sworn  foe  of  all  Christians ;  if  such  a  fellow 
should  live,  who  should  die  ?  What  is  the  axe  and  the  gibbet 
made  for,  if  not  for  such  traitorous  villains?  The  gallows 
would  think  much,  if  thou  shouldst  be  reprieved.  Thou 
I'eadest  thy  own  case,  O  Christian,  if  thou  hvest  in  sin,  and 
sidest  with  the  devil,  and  takest  thy  share  with  the  world, 
whom  thou  hast  renounced  in  word,  but  not  in  deed.  What 
though  thou  dost  not  call  the  Lord  Christ  a  deceiver  f  What 
though  thou  dost  not  revile  the  holy  name  whereby  we  are 
called  ?  thou  dost  a  great  deal  worse ;  thou  bendest  all  thy 
forces  thou  hast  against  him,  as  if  he  were  a  thief  and  a  robber; 
thou  labourcst  to  destroy  his  kingdom ;  thou  tramplest  under 
foot  the  blood  of  the  covenant,  and  makest  Christ  unto  thee  of 
none  effect.  Which  is  the  worst  enemy,  he  that  speaks  thee 
fair,  and  with  a  kiss  stabs  thoe  to  the  heart ;  or  he  that  bids 
thee  stand  upon  thy  guard,  and  declares  himself  resolved 
against  thy  life  1  I  will  assm-e  you,  Tm-ks  arc  not  such  enemies 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism.  45 

to  Christ,  as  those  that  pretend  to  him,  and  yet  do  him  all  the 
despite  they  can  in  their  lives.  Better  had  it  been  for  them 
that  some  band  of  sokUers  had  ravished  them  from  their  mo- 
thers' breasts,  and  listed  them  under  Mahomet's  banners ; 
better  had  it  been  for  them  to  have  been  Janizaries,  than  to 
own  and  acknowledge  the  Christian  profession,  and  Uve  so  pro- 
fanely without  God  in  the  world. 

Heathens  may  sin  at  a  cheaper  rate  than  we,  because  they 
never  made  any  such  promise  unto  God.  They  may  do  evil 
with  a  better  front,  and  more  confident  countenance,  that 
never  received  any  such  mark  in  their  forehead.  But  a 
Christian  face  which  is  besprinkled  with  clean  water  in  the 
name  of  Christ  shoidd  blush,  mcthinks,  at  any  impurity ;  and 
the  mark  of  Christ  tliat  is  upon  him  should  make  him  more 
modest  than  to  sin.  But  if  he  will  besmear  himself  again,  and 
have  the  impudence  to  outface  Christ,  he  shall  pay  dearly  for 
it.  For  he  breaks  his  vow  to  God,  and  thereby  comes  under 
the  curse  which  is  annexed  to  the  covenant  as  well  as  the 
promise.  And  all  these  terrible  threatcnings  of  Christ  which 
in  baptism  he  promised  to  beheve  as  well  as  any  other  word  of 
God,  shall  all  fall  upon  his  head,  and  he  shall  be  cast  into  a 
lake  indeed',  but  it  is  a  lake  burning  with  fire  and  brimstone. 
Better  had  it  been  for  such  an  one  if  he  had  been  drowned  in 
the  font,  or  entered  into  the  gates  of  death  when  he  entered 
into  the  gates  of  the  church ;  it  had  been  better  for  him  if  he 
had  been  branded  with  a  hot  iron  in  his  forehead,  or  scalding 
oil  had  been  poured  upon  his  face,  when  it  was  washed  with 
water  in  the  name  of  Christ.  The  flames  of  hell  shall  eternally 
burn  and  consume,  without  any  consumption,  that  filleth  thy 
soul*,  whose  dirt  the  waters  of  baptism  and  the  fires  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  could  not  fetch  out  and  scour  away.  And  if  any 
complain  of  their  weakness, 

USE  HI. 

Thirdly,  here  is  matter  of  comfort  to  us.  We  are  in  a  cove- 
nant of  grace ;  there  is  a  redemption  for  us  if  we  have  a  mind 
to  be  delivered ;  we  have  assurance  of  the  assistance  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  if  we  be  sincerely  watchful  and  diligent,  he 

s  Rev.  xxi.  8. 

t  [So  all  the  editions.  The  author  i)robahly  wrote  '  that  filthy  soul.'] 


46 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or. 


will  not  because  of  our  failings  take  away  his  Holy  Spirit  from 
us.  Through  the  Sph-it  of  Christ  we  shall  be  able  to  do 
valiantly,  nothing  shall  be  too  hard  to  overcome,  but  we  shall 
tread  all  our  enemies  under  our  feet. 

Let  us  march  out  therefore  as  the  solchcrs  of  Christ,  carry- 
ing his  cross  in  our  banners  ;  let  us  profess  and  declare  that  we 
are  crucified  to  the  world,  that  we  are  buried  with  Christ  in 
baptism,  and  reckon  ourselves  to  be  dead  indeed  unto  sin,  but 
alive  unto  God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.  Let  not  sin 
therefore  reign  in  your  mortal  bodies,  that  you  shoidd  obey  it 
in  the  lusts  thereof.  Neither  yield  ye  your  members  as  in- 
struments of  unrighteousness  unto  sin :  but  yield  yourselves 
unto  God,  as  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead,  and  your 
members  as  instruments  of  righteousness  imto  God.  For  sin 
shall  not  have  dominion  over  you :  for  you  are  not  under  the 
law,  but  under  grace^.  It  is  a  shame  now  to  be  overcome 
when  you  serve  under  such  a  captain,  and  have  heaven  on  your 
side,  and  have  received  the  promise  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Is 
there  no  power  in  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  or  is  not  God  as  good  as 
his  word  ?  Will  not  he  give  us  what  he  hath  promised,  to  make 
us  to  vanquish  all  his  enemies  ?  0  do  not  speak  such  evil  things 
of  God  by  doing  any  evil.  Do  not  disgrace  your  profession, 
nor  bring  a  dishonour  upon  the  Lord,  by  letting  every  tempta- 
tion use  you  at  its  pleasure.  Do  not  suffer  every  lust  to  foil 
and  worst  you,  as  if  you  were  Turks  and  infidels,  and  had  none 
of  the  mark  or  badge  of  God  upon  you.  and  as  if  your  bap- 
tism was  of  no  more  avail  to  you  than  the  washing  of  your 
hands.  But  first  resolve  that  all  these  lusts  of  the  flesh  must 
be  overcome,  and  then  conclude  that  they  may.  Persuade 
yourselves  that  God  is  with  you,  and  that  he  hath  appointed 
no  ineffectual  rites,  no  bare  shadows,  no  beggarly  ceremonies 
and  cold  formalities  in  the  rehgion  of  Christ ;  but  that  if  you 
use  your  diligence  and  pray  continually,  you  shall  find  the 
Holy  Ghost  to  accompany  you,  and  that  you  are  born  again, 
not  of  water  only,  but  of  the  Spirit,  and  shall  finally  inherit 
eternal  life. 

USE  IV. 

That  you  may  receive  greater  supphes  of  the  Spirit  pro- 
mised, and  be  more  engaged  to  your  duty,  labour  fully  to  un- 
*  Rom.  vi.  II — 14. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


47 


derstand  your  vow  and  covenant,  and  then  come  and  openly 
own  it,  professing  you  will  bo  faithful  to  it,  that  so  you  may  be 
admitted  to  nearer  familiarity  with  God.  Let  me  prevail  with 
all  young  persons  who  are  yet  in  the  gate  of  the  church, 
and  have  proceeded  no  further  than  to  be  baptized  in  their  in- 
fancy, and  perhaps  to  be  catechized  in  the  principles  of  reli- 
gion, to  spend  a  few  thoughts  upon  this  which  I  propound. 
For  though  outward  baptism,  which  is  the  visible  sign  and  seal 
of  the  covenant,  is  not  to  be  renewed ;  yet  the  answer  of  a 
good  conscience^,  wherein  the  inward  baptism  doth  consist,  may, 
and  ought  to  be  reiterated,  by  a  personal  resumption  and  rati- 
fication of  that  vow  which  was  made  for  us  in  our  infant  years. 
And  no  man  is  to  be  reputed  a  complete  member  of  the  church, 
until  he  do  own  his  engagements,  and  openly  profess  that  he 
will  stand  to  the  conditions  of  the  covenant,  and  be  a  disciple 
of  Christ.  If  baptism  did  at  first  admit  us  into  the  enjoyment 
of  many  privileges,  surely  we  shall  receive  more  of  the  bless- 
ings of  it,  when  we  do  seriously  reflect  upon  it,  and  engage  our 
hearts  by  our  own  free  consent  to  God ;  because  then  we  begin 
more  solemnly  to  perform  the  conditions  that  God  requireth  of 
us.  When  I  first  entered  upon  a  charge  of  souls,  I  could  think 
of  no  course  so  anciently  attested  unto,  so  reasonable  in  itself, 
and  so  likely  to  be  etfectual  for  men's  good,  so  free  hkewise 
from  the  just  exceptions  of  any  party,  as  to  propose  this  to  my 
people ;  that  all  those  who  had  not  yet  been  commimicatcd 
shoidd  freely  and  heartily  profess  to  be  sincere  and  constant  in 
their  baptismal  covenant,  and  declare  themselves  enemies  to 
the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh.  And  I  will  take  occasion 
here  to  profess,  that  I  am  heartily  glad  that  Mr.  Hanmer  hath 
proposed  this^,  and  Mr.  Baxter  so  earnestly  pressed  it  upon  the 
whole  nation,  after  whose  pious  and  learned  endeavours,  let  me 
contribute  my  little  mite  to  the  urging  those  into  whose  hands 
this  small  treatise  shall  come  that  they  would  not  i-efuse  it. 

This  Christian  duty  hath  long  passed  under  the  name  of 
confirmation,  which  is  a  word  full  and  significant  of  the  thing 

"  1  Pet.  iii.  21.  Church-members,'  &c.  with  the  re- 

"  [Jonathan  Hanmer,  minister  of  commendation  of  John  Howe,  and 

the  gospel  at  Tawton- Bishop,  De-  prefaced  by  commendatory  letters 

von,  published  in  1C57,  '  TeKuaxris,  from  George  Hughes,  Richard  Bax- 

or  An  Exercitation  upon  Confirma-  ter,  and  Ralph  Venning  ] 
tion,  the  antient  way  of  compleating 


48 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


that  I  would  express,  and  consists  of  two  parts.  First,  that  a 
person  do  undertake  in  his  own  name  every  part  of  the  vow 
made  by  others  for  him  in  baptism,  and  so  personally  consent 
unto  Christ  to  be  wholly  his  according  to  that  agreement.  And 
so  it  is  an  act  of  confirmation  on  our  part ;  because  we  do 
hereby  further  ratify  and  estabhsh  that  contract  which  is  be- 
tween God  and  us,  and  by  confessing  of  it  to  be  valid  and 
good,  bind  ourselves  faster  still  to  him,  whose  we  were  before. 
The  second  part  of  it  is,  a  receiving  of  God's  blessing  and 
grace  by  the  hands  and  holy  prayers  of  him  that  ministers,  to 
strengthen  us  to  perform  our  -engagement,  and  make  good  our 
word  and  faith  which  we  have  plighted  unto  God,  which  many 
have  taken  to  be  the  meaning  of  that  place,  Heb.  vi.  4^,  where 
after  baptism  follows  laying  on  of  hands,  which  the  Jews  used 
in  their  blessings. 

And  so  it  is  an  act  of  confirmation  of  the  person  on  the  part 
of  God,  who  confers  a  new  grace,  to  strengthen  and  confirm  in 
him  these  holy  principles,  and  that  good  resolution,  of  which 
he  hath  made  a  faithful  profession,  and  to  enable  him  to  keep 
and  persist  in  it.  As  in  baptism  the  Holy  Ghost  was  conveyed 
as  a  sanctifier,  so  herein  as  a  comforter  and  strengthener,  now 
that  the  person  is  entering  iipon  a  great  contest  and  conflict 
with  himself,  the  world,  and  principahties,  and  powei*s,  and 
spiritual  wickedness  m  liigh  places.  The  necessity  of  this 
is  not  now  in  this  age  of  the  world  as  a  new  thing  to  be 
learned ;  there  never  could  be  a  well  constituted  church  with- 
out it,  nor  can  we  tell  that  men  are  not  heathens,  and  have  not 
revoked  their  word,  unless  they  will  tell  us  they  understand 
what  they  then  did,  and  will  not  stir  from  it.  But  if  it  be  vi- 
sible, souls  are  not  like  in  any  great  numbers  to  be  saved 
without  some  such  course  (so  many  attending  upon  sermons 
many  years  that  understand  little  or  nothing) ;  it  will  not  be 
disputed  by  sober  men  whether  it  be  necessary  or  no ;  and  for 
proof  of  this,  I  refer  to  the  better  works  of  others",  thinking  it 

^  Besides  sundry  of  the  ancients,  from  which  it  had  heen  banished. 

Calvin,  Beza,  Piscator,  Hunnius,  "  ['of  him  that  labours  more 

lUyricus,  Possanus,  Grynaeus,  do  abundantly  than  us  all,'  ed.  i.  re- 

so  expound  it.    See  also  Hyperius  ferring  in  the  margin  by  name  to 

and  Bulling,  in  loc.  who  wish  for  '  Mr.  Baxter,'  whose  treatise  he  pre- 

the  restoring  of  it  in  those  churches  sently  quotes.] 


A  Discourse  concerniay  Baptism. 


49 


sufficient  for  me  to  persuade  what  abler  men  do  prove.  Let 
me  only  produce  the  testimony  of  a  very  great  and  learned 
person  lately  in  this  churchy  (and  add  it  to  the  words  of  the 
reverend  and  learned  doctor  Hammond^,  which  you  find  in  the 
end  of  Mr.  Baxter's  book'*) ; — "  For  all  such  as  have  been  bap- 
tized in  their  infancy,  the  personal  resumption  and  ratification 
of  that  vow  which  their  fathers  and  mothers  in  God  chd  make 
for  them  at  the  sacred  laver,  is  to  be  exacted  of  them  ore  tenus, 
in  some  public  congregation,  before  they  can  lawfully  be  ad- 
mitted to  be  pubUc  communicants  of  Christ's  body  and  blood." 
And  though  he  can  find  no  default  in  the  doctrine  or  laws  of 
our  church,  yet  (he  saith)  he  "  dare  not  avouch  so  much  for 
justifying  the  men  to  whom  the  execution  of  those  laws  is  com- 
mended, whether  they  be  of  lower,  of  higher,  or  of  the  highest 
rank :"  it  having  been  scarce  in  his  observation,  that  any  pre- 
sentments were  made  in  visitation  of  "  the  parents  for  not 
bringing  persons  to,"  or  "of  ministers  for  not  preparing  them 
for  confirmation ;"  "  much  less  against  diocesans  themselves  for 
not  executing  their  office  in  this  great  service  of  the  church." 
And  he  concludes  in  these  remarkable  words,  "  Whether  the 
solemn  baptizing  of  all  infants  which  are  the  children  of  pre- 
sumed Christian  parents  throughout  this  kingdom,  without 
solemn  astipulation  that  they  shall  at  years  of  discretion  per- 
sonally ratify  their  vow  in  baptism  in  public  in  such  manner  as 
the  church  requires,  be  not  rather  more  lawful  or  more  toler- 
able than  expedient,  I  leave  it  with  all  submission  to  the  consi- 
deration of  higher  powers."  And  he  blesses  God  that  he  was 
in  a  convenient  age,  in  a  happy  time  and  place,  presented  to 
ratify  his  vow  made  for  him  by  his  sureties,  &c.,  which  sure  he 
would  not  have  done,  if  lie  had  not  found  it  very  beneficial 
unto  his  spiritual  good  and  welfare. 

The  same  author  hath  these  words  in  a  treatise  published  in 
his  lifetime,  •'"He  that  sets  his  hand  unto  the  sacred  plough 

y  Dr.  Jackson,  1.  lo.  upon  the  *  ["  Confirmation  and  Restaura- 

Creed,  cap.  50.  [Works,  vol.  ix.  p.  tion,  the  necessary  means  of  Re- 

548.]  to  which  add  the  words  of  an-  formation,"  &c. — 8vo.  Lond.  16.^8.] 

other  more  ancient  annexed  at  the  ^  Treatise  of  Faith,  sect.  3.  cap. 3. 

end  of  this  treatise,  and  hecause  of  par.  5.  ["Justifying  Faith,  or  the 

its  length  not  here  inserted.  Faith  by  which  the  just  do  live," 

^  ["View  of  the  Directory,"  &c.  &c.  Lond.  1615.  p.  293.  Comment, 

chap.i.  §  41.  Works,  tom.i.  p. 156.]  on  the  Creed,  book  iv.  vol.  iii. p.  397.] 

PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  E 


50 


Aqua  Genitalis:  or, 


should  first  begin  to  sound  the  depth  of  that  rule,  What  it  is  to 
deny  ourselves  and  forsake  all  we  have ;  for  in  this  furrow 
must  the  seed  of  life  be  sown.  Here  novices  in  religion  com- 
monly begin  to  balk,  and  no  wonder,  seeing  so  few  are  called 
to  any  strict  personal  account  of  that  which  others  have  under- 
taken for  them  at  their  first  admission  into  the  bead-roll^  of 
Christians.  But  if  that  treble  vow^  were  distinctly  and  fully 
unfolded  unto  us  as  soon  as  we  had  any  knowledge  of  good  and 
evil ;  and  all  the  several  branches  of  God's  covenant  with  as 
great  care  and  solemnity  inculcated  as  Moses  commanded  the 
Law  should  be  to  the  Israelites'  children ;  and  lastly,  the  vow 
itself  confirmed  and  ratified  by  our  personal  protestation  in  the 
sight  of  the  congregation  :  the  fear  as  well  of  God  as  of  shame 
before  men,  in  whose  presence  we  made  this  profession,  would 
bind  many  of  us  to  more  Christian  behaviour  than  the  best  of 
us,  as  the  world  goes,  dare  make  show  of ;  as  also  restrain  us 
from  many  deadly  enormities,  which  now  admonished  of  wc 
will  not  account  any  sins.  Thus  prepared  to  receive  it,  it 
would  be  over-much  infidelity  to  distrust  the  plentiful  infusion 
of  inherent  sanctifying  grace  at  our  solemnities  of  confirmation ; 
were  these  first  sanctified  with  public  prayers,  or  performed 
with  such  Christian  care  and  dihgence  as  they  ought :  a  reli- 
gious duty  in  the  Chi'istian  church,  which  it  were  to  be  wished 
might  be  performed  more  often,  more  solemnly,  and  more  re- 
ligiously than  it  useth  to  be." 

And  indeed  who  sees  not  that  great  benefits  would  hence 
flow,  both  to  particular  persons  and  to  the  church  of  God*^  1  It 
would  be  a  means  to  make  men  more  knowing  in  the  things  of 
their  salvation ;  to  tie  them  more  strictly  to  mind  the  affairs  of 
their  souls ;  to  work  in  them  a  deeper  sense  of  the  great  busi- 
ness of  being  a  Christian.  It  would  make  men  more  afraid  to 
commit  a  sin  against  which  they  had  so  solemnly  and  publicly 
protested.  It  would  bring  religion  to  be  a  thing  creditable  and 
more  in  fashion  than  it  is,  when  men  did  so  openly  appeal*  for 
it  and  engage  themselves  unto  it.  It  is  at  once  acceptable  to 
God,  and  safe  to  ourselves ;  and  so  will  be  accompanied  vnih 

^  [From  Bead,  the  past  part,  of  simply, — Johnson's  and  Richard- 

Biddan,  '  orare,'  '  to  bid,'  '  to  in-  son's  Diets.] 
vite,'  '  to  sohcit,'  '  to  pray.'  A  cata-        ^  Which  was  made  in  baptism, 
logue  or  roll  of  those  who  are  to  be        <*  See  the  testimony  annexed  at 

mentioned  at  prayers  ;  thence  a  list,  the  end  of  this  treatise. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptisvi. 


51 


his  grace,  and  in  its  own  nature  cut  off  many  enticements  of 
the  world.  It  will  bid  us  stand  upon  our  reputation  in  the 
pursuit  of  religion,  and  not  run  the  hazard  of  being  perjured 
persons.  Wicked  men  will  not  have  the  confidence  to  ask  us 
to  sin,  when  we  have  so  publicly  disowned  them.  You  com- 
plain of  evil  company,  of  friends  and  acquaintance  that  engage 
you ;  do  but  let  them  know  that  you  intend  to  be  religious,  and 
they  will  let  you  alone.  The  philosophers  openly  professed  a 
severe  and  unusual  life,  that  all  men  might  let  them  Hve  philo- 
sophically, and  not  be  a  disturbance  imto  them.  Let  but  us  do 
so,  and  be  professedly  religious,  and  solemnly  tell  all  men  that 
we  mean  to  keep  our  vows,  and  they  will  have  the  less  boldness 
for  to  trouble  us.  Our  work  is  half  done  when  we  are  heartily 
resolved ;  and  more  than  half  when  we  profess  these  reso- 
lutions. It  will  bring  us  to  man's  estate,  that  we  may  feed  at 
the  table  of  the  Lord ;  whereby  we  may  increase  in  strength, 
and  have  more  near  commimion  with  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost.  Though  I  will  not  say  that  till  this  be  done  men 
are  members  of  the  church  imperfectly,  yet  I  must  needs  think 
that  they  are  but  imperfect  members,  they  are  but  babes  and 
infants  in  Christ,  and  not  to  be  admitted  (in  the  judgment  of  all 
ages)  to  taste  of  the  meat  of  men,  till  they  shew  themselves  to 
be  men  by  speaking  for  themselves.  In  short,  it  will  be  a 
great  security  and  defence  against  temptations,  and  we  shall 
recoil  upon  ourselves  when  we  are  assaulted,  saying,  How  shall 
we  do  tliis  wickedness,  and  break  our  vows,  and  scandalize  the 
church,  and  bring  the  guilt  of  perjury  upon  oui*  own  souls  ? 

It  is  observed  by  Jos.  de  Voysin^,  out  of  the  author  of  the 
book  Ikkarim,  that  the  elevation  of  the  hands  of  the  priest  in 
the  old  law  at  the  blessing  of  the  people  was  imposition  of 
hands  ;  and  this  blessing  the  author  of  Tzeror  Hammor^  calls 
the  "  weapons  and  armour  of  Israel,"  the  artillery  (as  it  were) 
and  the  bulwarks  of  his  people.  I  will  assure  you,  that  this 
solemn  engagement,  together  with  God's  grace  and  blessing 
that  will  descend  upon  you,  will  be  your  great  guard  and  de- 
fence, your  sword  and  buckler  to  beat  off  temptations  that  are 
apt  most  strongly  to  assault  your  younger  years,  before  you 
have  had  experience  of  the  world's  vanity.    Therefore  he  that 

^  [De  lege  div.  cap.  44.  p.  640.  cap.  45.  p.  678.] 
f  [Ibid.  cap.  45.  p.  678.] 

E  'i 


52 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or. 


would  not  be  without  a  shield  in  the  midst  of  fiery  darts,  he 
that  would  not  be  weak  and  feeble  among  strong  enemies,  that 
would  not  be  a  prey  to  the  devil  and  the  world,  let  him  come 
and  put  himself  under  the  wings  of  the  divine  Majesty  by  his 
own  actual  consent,  let  him  give  up  himseli"  into  the  hands 
of  God,  to  be  kept  by  his  power  through  faith  unto  salvation. 

There  is  nothing  can  hinder  any  man  from  embracing  this 
motion,  but  that  which  will  hinder  men  from  being  thorough 
Christians  and  living  godly  in  Christ  Jesus.  And  we  may  be 
confident  that  none  are  fit  to  receive  the  sacrament  of  Christ's 
body  and  blood  that  are  not  willing  to  submit  unto  it.  For  he 
that  hungers  after  the  sweeter  tastes  of  Christ's  love,  that  de- 
sires to  unite  his  heart  more  closely  to  him,  and  to  engage 
himself  more  firmly  in  the  covenant  of  God  by  receiving  the 
remembrances  of  his  love,  will  not  refuse  to  do  that  in  word 
which  he  intends  to  do  in  deed.  If  he  really  mean  to  be  a 
practiser  of  Christ's  religion,  and  to  testify  to  the  world  that 
the  deeds  thereof  are  evil,  and  contradict  their  manners  in  his 
conversation,  then  he  will  not  stick  to  condemn  them  in  his 
words,  and  renounce  them  solemnly  by  his  mouth,  which  is  the 
far  easier  matter. 

Will  any  man  be  ashamed  to  make  such  a  profession,  and  to 
tread  in  the  way  of  Christ's  church,  because  it  hath  been  of 
late  disused,  or  turned  into  another  thing  ?  Why  shouldst  thou 
blush  to  own  holiness  ?  to  say  before  Christ's  church  thou  art 
resolved  to  lead  a  Christian  life,  and  renounce  the  devil  and  all 
the  ways  of  wickedness?  Why  shouldst  thou  be  ashamed  of 
thy  religion,  as  though  it  were  fit  to  be  professed  only  in  a 
private  corner  where  none  should  hear  thee  ?  Why  should  it 
be  accounted  a  strange  thing  to  protest  love  to  God  ?  It  is  an 
honour  and  glory  to  us  that  we  may  be  Christians,  and  so  we 
should  esteem  it.  We  should  be  glad  if  we  can  do  our  Saviour 
so  much  honour  as  to  confess  him  openly  before  men,  that  so 
he  may  confess  us  before  all  his  holy  angels.  AVe  may  be  con- 
fident that  we  shall  never  in  a  time  of  persecution  confess  him 
(of  which  these  places  in  the  margin  speak?),  if  we  cannot  be 
persuaded  to  do  it  among  the  children  of  peace.  Will  any  one 
be  ashamed  that  it  should  be  told  by  the  minister  that  such  an 
one  declared  himself  a  Chi-istian,  and  hath  to  me  avowed  his 
s  Matth.  X.  32.  Mark  viii.  38.  Rom.  x.  8,  9,  10. 


A  Discourse  concernim/  Baptism. 


53 


religion,  and  solemnly  said,  that  he  will  by  the  grace  of  (Jod 
make  good  his  baptismal  promise  ?  Will  any  one  be  loth  it 
should  be  publicly  said  that  he  means  to  live  as  a  Christian  ? 
Why  then  should  he  not  say  so  himself?  Suppose  you  were  not 
yet  baptized,  or  had  lived  in  the  first  times  and  heard  Christ 
preached ;  woixld  you  be  unwilling  to  come  and  profess  that 
you  renounced  the  devil,  the  world,  and  their  lusts  ?  Shall 
none  own  the  religion  of  Christ  publicly  but  infants  that  cannot 
understand  it  ?  The  more  we  know,  shall  we  be  the  more  loth 
to  declare  our  liking  of  his  ways  ?  Are  you  unwilling  to  repre- 
sent the  child's  person,  and  profess  pubUcly  for  it  in  the  con- 
gregation ?  Why  shoidd  you  not  do  that  for  yourselves  which 
you  are  willing  to  do  for  others  ?  Cannot  he  that  comes  in  the 
name  of  a  child  and  saith  "  I  beheve,"  &c.  "  1  renounce,"  &c. 
come  and  do  the  same  in  his  own  name?  1  do  really  think 
that  they  that  are  unwilling  to  undertake  Christ's  profession 
by  an  open  promise  would  not  be  baptized  if  it  had  not  been 
done  in  their  infant  years ;  they  would  remain  rather  heathens 
and  infidels  than  be  received  into  the  church  of  God  ;  for  upon 
no  lower  conditions  than  these  are  could  they  ever  have  been 
admitted  to  any  Christian  privileges.  Unless  therefore  you 
will  shew  yourselves  to  want  all  understanding,  and  not  fit  to 
be  treated  as  men  of  common  reason,  put  not  away  from  you 
so  many  entreaties.  If  you  think  your  baptism  to  be  worth 
your  owning,  if  you  would  not  really  be  without  it,  but  take 
yourselves  to  be  the  better  for  it ;  renew  solemnly  that  league 
and  promise  with  God,  and  do  not  persuade  yourselves  and 
others  that  you  prize  the  baptism,  while  you  are  unwilling  unto 
this ;  for  if  that  were  not  done,  you  would  certainly  omit  it  as 
a  needless  ceremony,  as  well  as  this  which  always  accompanied 
it  in  the  chm'ch  of  Christ.  Seeing  nothing  can  reasonably  be 
thought  to  make  you  unwilling  but  a  lothness  to  be  good  and 
engage  to  live  well,  do  not  by  refusing  cast  an  aspersion  upon 
yourselves  of  having  renounced  Christ,  and  secretly  entered 
into  a  confederacy  with  the  devil  to  destroy  his  kingdom,  and 
trample  under  foot  his  blood  as  an  unholy  thing  l^. 

When  this  confirmation  was  looked  upon  by  the  multitude  as 
a  means  only  to  receive  something  from  God,  but  not  as  laying 
any  obligation  upon  men,  it  was  a  wonder  (I  should  have  said 

^  Vid.  Anton,  de  Dom.  de  Repiib.  Ecclcs.  [lib.  v.  cap.  5.  torn.  ii.  p.  54, 
sqq.] 


54 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or. 


no  wonder)  to  sec  wliat  flocks  and  herds  of  people  came  unto  it. 
In  queen  Mary's  days,  (as  Saunders i  tells  us,)  when  this  custom 
by  a  provincial  I'  decree  of  Cardinal  Pole's  was  renewed  after 
long  neglect,  the  people  were  so  zealous  to  receive  the  bishop's 
blessing  (which  was  all  they  went  for),  that  in  some  places  the 
church  could  not  contain  the  people  that  resorted  to  him,  and 
he  was  fain  to  confirm  in  the  church-yard,  and  to  be  defended 
by  armed  men  from  the  press  of  the  multitude. 

Why  should  not  men  come  now  in  as  great  crowds,  when 
another  renewal  in  a  more  solemn  manner  is  proposed  ?  Why 
should  not  the  young  people  assemble  themselves  together  and 
say,  Come,  let  us  go  to  the  house  of  the  Lord,  let  us  own 
Christ  to  be  our  Lord  and  Saviour  ?  but  only  because  men  are 
loth  to  be  engaged  to  fear  God,  and  do  love  a  Christ  of  their 
own  maldng,  that  shall  do  all  for  them,  and  require  them  to  do 
nothing  for  him  ?  If  God  will  have  men  as  they  are,  they  can 
be  content  to  afford  him  their  company ;  but  if  he  expect  any 
amendment,  they  desire  to  be  excused  from  making  him  any 
promise  of  it,  and  hope  that  they  shall  find  him  so  kind  in  the 
conclusion  as  not  to  exact  it.  May  not  he  be  well  satisfied 
without  any  bond  from  us,  when  (in  men's  account)  he  will 
never  demand  the  debt  ?  Why  should  we  pass  our  word  for 
that  which  will  never  be  I'equired  ?  seeing  God  can  bear  with 
men's  rebellions,  why  would  his  ministers  be  so  rigid  as  to 
exact  an  oath  of  allegiance  ?  These  are  the  thoughts  of  men's 
hearts,  that  God  will  cross  all  scores  at  the  last,  and  then  to 
what  purpose  is  it  to  make  any  such  serious  engagements  ?  If 
we  had  a  window  into  men's  breasts,  we  should  see  this  prin- 
ciple engraven  on  their  hearts,  that  all  the  Gospel  is  promises, 
and  all  their  work  is  to  believe  them  to  be  true ;  and  so  there 
need  not  so  much  be  done,  as  to  make  an-  open  profession  of 
this  belief. 


i  De  Schism,  [lib.  ii.  p.  247.] 
^  There  were  decrees  long  before 
to  enforce  it,  as  that  of  archbishop 
Peckham,  an.  1281,  wherein  he  calls 
the  disuse  of  it  'damnable  negligence.' 
[  "  Confirmationis  in  super  sacra- 
mentum  multi  negligunt  temerarie, 
quia  desunt  forsan  ad  talia  vigiles 
hortatores  ;  adeo  ut  plures  immo 
innumeri  sint  inveterati  dierum  ma- 
lorum,  qui  nondum  confirmationis 


gratiam  receperunt.  Cui  negligen- 
tise  damnabili  obviantes,  statuimus, 
ut  nullus  ad  sacramentum  corporis 
et  sanguinis  Domini  admittatur, 
extra  mortis  articulum,  nisi  fuerit 
confirmatus,  vel  nisi  fuerit  a  recep- 
tione  confirmationis  rationabiliter 
impeditus." — Const.  J. Peckham,  in 
concil.  Lambeth,  apud  Wilkins, 
Concill.  torn.  ii.  p.  53.] 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


55 


If  popery  should  again  prevail  in  England,  and  such  a 
decree  should  be  again  revived,  what  would  these  men  do  ? 
Would  they  be  so  backward  as  now  they  are  to  present  them- 
selves before  the  congregation  of  God  ?  It  is  most  likely  that 
fear  or  fancy  might  make  those  men  receive  their  ointment  in 
the  forehead,  and  box  on  the  ear  (as  the  manner  is  in  their 
confirmation),  who  now  will  not  for  the  love  of  God  profess 
they  hate  sin,  and  intend  to  lead  a  holy  hfe.  So  constantly  it 
falls  out,  that  what  hath  diflaculty  in  it  is  refused,  and  all  that 
requu-es  our  serious  attention  upon  some  account  or  other  is 
rejected ;  and  men  would  go  to  heaven  they  know  not  how, 
and  be  saved  from  hell,  but  not  from  their  sins.  Yea,  some  are 
so  ignorant  as  to  call  this  a  pojnsh  ceremony,  when  it  is  very 
plain  that  if  it  wei'e  they  would  not  speak  against  it.  If  only 
their  children  were  to  be  blessed  that  understand  nothing,  we 
might  easily  persuade  them  to  send  them,  when  as  they  will 
rather  themselves  remain  childi-en  than  make  any  solemn  cove- 
nant with  God  by  their  own  mouths.  If  a  character  (as  they 
speak)  was  to  be  impressed,  and  the  benefit  to  arise  ex  opere 
ojjerato,  '  out  of  the  mere  doing  of  the  work,'  they  would 
AviUingly  be  so  sealed  for  heaven ;  but  if  they  must  set  then- 
own  seal  to  any  engagements,  they  withdraw  their  hands,  and 
will  presume  upon  some  other  way  of  conveyance  and  making 
over  God's  great  blessings  to  them.  If  they  can  be  saved  by 
sprinkling  water  on  their  face,  and  the  woman  can  carry  them 
in  her  arms  to  heaven  as  she  doth  unto  the  font,  they  are  con- 
tent, it  costs  them  no  trouble  at  all.  But  if  it  were  to  do  again, 
if  it  must  cost  them  repentance,  a  holy  hfe,  and  a  hearty  pro- 
fession of  it,  they  Avould  scorn  that  baptism  wherein  they  now 
trust  so  much ;  and  they  would  rather  venture  to  be  as  they 
were  born,  than  be  washed  from  their  pollutions  on  such  condi- 
tions. 0  that  men  would  take  these  things  at  least  so  far  into 
their  thoughts  as  to  pass  a  serious  judgment  upon  them,  whe- 
ther they  be  true  or  false !  Do  not  read  these  lines  without  a 
little  pause.  And  then  go  on  and  consider  with  thyself  how 
unlikely  it  is,  that  they  who  even  break  their  brains  with  study 
to  do  men  good,  and  sigli  till  their  heart  ache  after  men's  sal- 
vation, should  be  the  greatest  enemies  of  men,  the  troublers  of 
their  peace,  and  that  love  to  persuade  them  needless  or  indif- 
ferent things  that  may  as  well  be  left  undone. 

Let  some  honest  heathens  (for  a  conclusion)  be  admitted  for 


56 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or. 


to  plead  the  cause  of  this  truth,  and  perhaps  they  may  make 
those  faces  blush  who  look  on  these  lines,  but  are  loth  to  shew 
themselves  in  any  public  presence  to  profess  their  rehgion. 
When  the  Persian  youths  were  out  of  theu'  minority  and  came 
to  men's  estate,  they  gave  them  an  oath  which  they  solemnly 
took  in  this  form,  "  I  swear  that  I  will  despise  all  filthy  lucre, 
bodily  pleasures,  and  vain  glory ;  that  I  will  rather  be  emidous 
of  virtue  and  worship  God,  I'everence  my  parents,  speaking 
truth  and  doing  good,  neithei-  will  I  ever  wittingly  and  will- 
ingly violate  any  of  these  things'."  Sm-e  these  old  heathens 
would  not  have  refused  to  do  what  is  now  desired,  had  they 
embraced  our  rehgion,  who  thus  amply  pi'otested  and  took 
their  oath  that  they  would  be  good. 

Juhus  Pollux  likewise  relates  the  like  custom  among  the 
Greeks  in  the  commonwealth  of  Athens"^.  When  their  young 
men  were  twenty  years  of  age  their  names  were  inscribed  in 
the  city  rolls,  and  they  swore  in  the  open  air  as  if  they  would 
have  all  the  world  to  hear  them,  '•  I  will  never  disgrace  my 
arms,  nor  forsake  my  fellow  soldier  in  his  danger ;  I  will  fight 
both  alone  and  with  others  foi'  God  and  my  comitry ;  I  will 
sail  to  any  region  of  the  world  whither  I  am  commanded,  and 
will  neither  disturb  nor  betray  my  country ;  I  will  observe  the 
perpetual  solemnities,  and  obey  the  received  customs  and  all 
that  shall  be  hereafter  made ;  I  will  defend  and  ever  have  in 
reverence  the  religion  in  which  1  was  born" ;  iforopes  Oeol  rov- 
Toiv,  'the  gods  are  witnesses  of  these  things.'"  Will  not  you 
Christians  then  promise  thus  much  to  your  Lord  now  that  you 
are  of  age,  to  fight  against  all  his  enemies,  to  be  true  to  God 
and  to  him,  and  that  you  will  never  dishonour  your  profession, 
nor  forsake  the  communion  of  saints,  nor  deny  hun  any  service 
that  he  commands,  nor  neglect  the  solemnities  that  he  hath 
appointed  ?  Then  may  the  Persians  and  Athenians  rise  up  in 
the  judgment  against  you  and  condemn  you. 

Do  men  refuse  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  then"  prince,  whose 
natural  subjects  they  are,  and  under  whose  protection  they 
have  been  born  and  bred  ?  Would  you  deny  to  acknowledge  in 
open  coui't  an  insti'ument  for  your  act  and  deed  which  was 

'  Isidor.  Pelus.  1.  iv.  Epist.  198.  Ulpian.  in   Deinosth.  "Slfivvov  eV 

[j).  525  D.]  dypavXa,    Ov  KOTaitrxwio  ra  owXa, 

"1  Ti.  8.  c.  9.  [p.  924.]  and  like-  k.  t. X.  [de  Falsa  liCgat.  fol.  59  a.] 
wise  Stobaei  [serm.  141.  p.  4 14.]  et       "  'Upa  waTpia. 


A  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


57 


signed  in  your  name  in  infancy  and  conveys  great  benefits  unto 
you  ?  Let  the  King  of  heaven  then  have  so  much  right  done 
him.  Let  your  own  souls  be  the  greatest  part  of  your  care, 
and  let  it  not  be  said  that  a  rational  creature  will  do  that  for 
an  acre  of  land,  which  he  will  not  do  to  obtain  heaven  and  all 
the  territories  above.  What  joy  would  it  cause  in  heaven  and 
earth  to  see  men  coming  to  desire  communion  on  these  condi- 
tions, to  behold  men  crowding  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven  as 
they  do  into  a  church,  and  longing  after  the  food  of  the 
faithful  as  they  do  for  meat  and  drink !  Rejoice,  I  beseech  you, 
the  heart  of  God,  refresh  the  souls  of  his  servants,  and  add  to 
the  sweetness  of  the  table  of  the  Lord,  by  letting  us  have  more 
good  company  at  so  joyful  a  feast.  But  if  all  entreaties  cannot 
prevail, 

I  think  the  higher  powers  had  best  enact  a  law,  that  none 
shall  be  married  till  they  be  instructed  and  confirmed,  and  that 
will  do  it.  For  those  that  care  not  whether  they  receive  the 
sacrament  of  Christ's  body  and  blood  or  no,  will  not  Uve  with- 
out this  sacrament  (as  in  a  large  sense  it  may  be  called), 
though  they  understand  the  ends  and  duties  of  it  no  more 
than  of  the  other.  And  this  must  be  acknowledged  to  have 
been  a  great  cause  of  our  disorders,  that  men  enter  into  these 
relations  before  they  know  the  duties  of  them,  and  beget  and 
bring  forth  children,  before  they  cease  to  be  children  them- 
selves, or  know  how  to  bring  them  up  as  they  should.  There- 
fore our  reformers,  it  is  plain,  intended  men  should  not  marry 
before  they  were  well  catechised  and  had  taken  their  bap- 
tismal vow  upon  themselves,  knowing  that  those  were  unfit  to 
make  a  covenant  with  each  other  who  knew  not  the  covenant 
of  their  God.  For  they  prescribe  in  the  last  rubric  of  the 
office  of  matrimony,  that  the  persons  new  married  must  that 
day  receive  the  communion ;  and  in  the  last  rubric  about 
confirmation  say  in  express  words,  that  "  none  shall  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  holy  communion  until  such  time  as  they  can  say 
the  catechism  and  be  confirmed."  Let  mo  speak  to  the  very 
senses  of  vulgar  people.  Do  you  not  remember  the  font  stood 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  church,  and  the  communion-table  at  the 
higher  ?  Could  you  come  from  the  one  to  the  other  but  by  the 
pulpit  whicli  stands  in  the  middle  between  both  ?  Tliis  teaches 
you  (if  you  will  learn),  that  you  are  only  entered  into  the 


58 


Aqua  Genitalis :  or, 


church,  and  are  but  in  the  beginnings  of  rehgion  by  baptism, 
and  that  you  must  advance  higher  by  being  instructed  and 
taught  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  can  no  otherwise  be  ad- 
mitted from  the  lower  to  the  highest  forms  of  Christians. 
Come  therefore  and  be  instructed,  and  then  profess  you  like 
this  doctrine  and  will  be  obedient  to  it ;  so  shall  you  come  to 
be  men  in  Christ,  and  taste  of  all  his  dainties,  and  be  satisfied 
with  the  fat  things  of  liis  house.  If  all  will  not  be  granted 
that  is  here  requested,  yet  do  not  deny  all° ;  but  at  least  profess 
to  the  minister  your  hearty  repentance  and  your  belief  in  Christ, 
and  the  willingness  to  submit  unto  hun,  and  to  be  saved  by 
him,  that  he  may  declare  it  to  all  others.  And  really  shew 
that  you  are  come  to  an  adult  estate,  by  putting  away  cliildish 
things  and  hving  the  hfe  of  men.  A  child  (as  one  saith) 
looketh  only  to  things  present,  a  man  looketh  to  things  to 
come :  a  child  attends  only  to  pastime  and  pleasure,  a  man  hath 
also  profit  in  his  consideration :  a  child  is  ready  to  sell  his  in- 
heritance for  a  trifle  oi'  bauble,  of  which  a  man  maketh  a 
greater  account.  His  carriage  and  behaviour  hkewise  dis- 
tinguisheth  him,  and  so  doth  his  confidence  against  vulgar  bug- 
bears and  afi"rightraents. 

If  therefore  after  you  are  confirmed,  you  find  yourselves  to 
think  less  of  things  present,  and  more  of  things  to  come ;  less 
of  this  world,  and  more  of  the  eternal  reward  of  godhness  and 
everlasting  pimishments  of  sin ;  if  you  scorn  to  sell  yom-  hea- 
venly inheritance  for  the  trifles  of  tliis  woi'ld  that  present 
themselves  mito  you ;  if  you  be  more  attentive  to  your  spiri- 
tual profit  in  knowledge  and  mortification,  and  not  only  taken 
with  the  sweetnesses  and  ravishments  of  religion  ;  if  your  con- 
versation towards  God  and  the  world  be  more  serious,  grave, 
and  discreet,  and  you  are  not  so  easily  amazed  with  the  fears 
of  sufferings  and  diflSculties  in  your  Christian  com'se ;  it  is  a 
sign  that  you  have  not  received  the  grace  of  God  in  vain,  and 
the  Lord  will  deliver  you  from  every  evil  work,  and  preserve 

°  Quod  totum  sciri  non  potest,  ne  shop  Patrick  from  the  learned  ori- 

omittatur  totum,  siquidem  scientia  entalist  Edward  Pococke,  who  has 

partis  mehor  est  ignorantia  totius.  adopted  it  as  a  motto  or  prefix  to 

[This  maxim,  the  translation  of  a  his  Latin  version  of  Ab'ul  Faraj's 

sentence  of  the  Arabian  sai:;e  Ab'ul  Specimen  Historiac  Arabum,  4to. 

Feda,  was  no  doubt  derived  by  hi-  Oxon.  1650.] 


j4  Discourse  concerning  Baptism. 


59 


you  to  his  everlasting  kingdom.  Faithful  is  he  that  calleth 
you,  who  also  will  do  it  p. 

USE  V. 

Lastly,  let  me  beseech  all  the  people  of  God  to  live  in  love 
and  peace  together.  Let  us  not  quarrel  about  every  little 
thing,  nor  make  every  petty  difference  a  cause  of  trouble  and 
contention.  For  as  the  apostle  saith,  by  one  Spirit  we  are  all 
baptized  into  one  body^.  We  are  all  by  this  made  of  the 
same  corporation,  and  taken  by  baptism  into  the  same  brother- 
hood, and  therefore  should  not  make  them  the  waters  of  strife, 
and  so  provoke  the  Lord  to  anger  against  us.  We  are  not 
baptized  into  this  or  that  particular  opinion,  nor  received  into 
a  particular  church,  but  into  the  belief  of  the  gospel,  and  into 
the  church  of  God  in  general,  and  therefore  should  love  all  the 
disciples  and  follovrcrs  of  our  Lord,  and  embrace  all  of  every 
persuasion  that  live  godlily  in  Christ  Jesus.  You  were  not 
baptized  (saith  the  apostle'')  into  the  name  of  Paul;  therefore 
do  not  say,  I  am  of  Paul,  I  adhere  to  this  man  or  that ; 
for  whosoever  did  baptize  you,  it  was  not  into  the  particular 
love  of  him  and  his  opinions,  but  into  the  communion  of  the 
whole  church  of  Christ,  who  hold  the  catholic  faith.  Though 
an  heretic  in  ancient  times  had  baptized  any  man,  yet  did  not 
the  Christians  therefore  baptize  him  over  again  when  he  left 
those  men's  company;  because  being  baptized  into  the  name  of 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  he  was  not  received  into  the 
profession  of  their  particular  opinions,  but  of  the  truth  of 
Christ  universally  beheved  by  all  good  Christians. 

And  therefore  let  us  live  with  them  all  as  our  confederates, 
as  those  that  are  tied  together  in  the  same  bonds  and  united  in 
the  same  covenant,  and  engaged  in  the  same  cause  against  the 
common  enemies,  the  devil,  the  world,  and  the  flesh ;  and 
let  us  never  give  these  enemies  so  much  cause  to  rejoice,  as  an 
unhandsome  word  against  any  sincere  Christian  might  administer. 
But  let  us  endeavour  to  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the 
bond  of  peace ;  for,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  There  is  one  Lord, 
one  faith,  one  baptism,  one  God  and  Father  of  all,  who  is 
above  all,  and  through  all,  and  in  you  all^. 

r]  bo^a  €is  rows  al&vas. 
P  [i  Thess.  V.  24.]    n  I  Cor.  xii.  13.    r  [i  Cor.  i.  13.]    »  Ephes.  iv.  3,  4,  5, 


APPENDIX. 


The  late  king  Charles  was  confirmed  on  Easter  Monday',  1613, 
^which  was  the  thirteenth  year  of  his  age,)  after  a  long  and  strict 
examination  by  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  bishop  of  Bath 
and  Wells;  as  Dr.  George  Hackwell,  ear-witness  of  the  satisfaction  he 
gave,  assures  ;  who,  in  a  little  tractate ^  he  upon  that  occasion  wrote 
on  this  subject,  to  justify  the  ancient  and  good  practice  of  this  '  sa- 
cramental rite.'  as  Bucer*^  calls  it,  thus  speaks ^  : 

"  Confirmation  is  an  ancient  ecclesiastical  custom  of  the  church, 
used  after  baptism,  consisting  in  examination  and  imposition  of 
hands,  with  effectual  prayer  for  the  illumination  of  God's  most  holy 
Spirit,  to  confirm  and  perfect  that  which  the  grace  of  the  same  Spirit 
hath  already  begun  in  baptism. 

"  The  benefits  of  this  confirmation  are  divers  ;  whereof  the  first  is. 
That  men  expecting  examination  and  trial  from  their  spiritual 
fathers,  they  might  more  willingly  acquaint  and  carefully  season 
themselves  with  the  grounds  of  Christian  religion,  before  malice  and 
corrupt  examples  depraved  their  minds,  &c. 

"  Secondly,  It  serves,  that  when  they  come  to  years  of  discretion, 
they  should  publicly  make  confession  of  that  faith  themselves,  which 
others  had  promised  for  them  in  baptism,  to  the  discharge  of  their 
sureties,  and  the  good  example  of  others. 

"  Thirdly,  That  by  such  confession  they  might  make  profession  of 
difl^'erence  from  all  Jews,  Turks,  and  infidels  out  of  the  church  ;  he- 
retics, schismatics,  and  profane  persons  in  the  church. 

"  Fourthly,  That  then  especially  when  they  first  come  to  the  use  of 


»  111  tbe  chapel  at  Whitehall. 

["  The  auncient  ecclesiastical  prac- 
tice of  confirmation,  confirmed  by  ar- 
guments drawn  from  Scripture,  reason, 
councils,  fathers,  and  later  writers. 
Written  upon  occasion  of  the  confir- 
mation of  the  Pi-ince  his  Iliglinesse, 
performed  on  INIonday  in  Easter  weeke, 
by  George  Hakewill,  Doctor  of  Divini- 


tie,  bis  Higbnosse  Chaplaino  in  ordi- 
narie."    4to.  Lond.  1613.] 

<■  [Rather  Luther  :  "  Satis  est  pro 
ritu  quodam  ecclesiastico  seu  ceremo- 
nia  sacramentali  confirmationem  ha- 
bere:"— De  Captiv.  Babylon,  cap.  de 
Confirm,  tom.ii.  fol.  81  b.j 
Cap.  I.  fp.  I.] 


APPENDIX. 


reason,  beginning  to  fall  into  sundry  kinds  of  sin,  and  being  least 
able  to  resist  for  want  of  experience,  by  imposition  of  hands  and 
prayer  they  might  receive  strength  and  defence  against  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil. 

"  Fifthly,  That  the  prelates  and  chief  guides  of  God's  family,  to 
whom  the  cure  of  their  souls  belongeth,  finding  upon  examination 
some  part  of  their  own  heavy  burden  discharged,  might  from  thence 
reap  comfort  in  beholding  those  fair  foundations  already  laid,  and 
glorify  God,  whose  praise  they  found  in  the  mouths  of  infants. 

"  This  kind  of  confirmation  (were  there  no  authority  to  countenance 
it)  is  in  my  judgment  so  useful  in  the  church  of  God,  that  upon 
good  reason  it  might  be  entertained  among  Christians.  But  for 
further  confirmation  of  it,  we  are  compassed  with  a  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses, and  that  so  plentifully  out  of  all  antiquity,  as  it  may  seem  a 
kind  of  ambition  or  lost  labour  to  quote  their  names.  "Wherefore  I 
will  only  allege  the  soundest  of  those,  who  since  the  reformation  of 
religion,  and  clearer  light  of  the  gospel,  in  their  several  writings 
have  approved  and  highly  commended  this  ancient  custom."  And 
bringing  in  Bucer^,  Melancthon^,  Zuinglius^,  Chemnitius'',  and 
others  to  speak  to  this  truth,  he  cites  Mr.  Calvin'  among  the  rest  in 
these  words : — "  John  Calvin,  in  his  fourth  book  of  Institutions,  in 
the  upshot  of  the  chapter  of  Confirmation,  not  only  commendeth  the 
ancient  use  of  it,  but  the  abuse  being  removed  heartily  wisheth  it 
restored.  And  because  his  authority  is  (not  without  desert)  of  great 
weight,  1  will  set  down  his  words  as  I  find  them. 

"  '  Would  to  God,'  saith  he,  '  we  retained  that  custom  which  I 
have  already  declared  to  have  been  in  use  among  the  ancients  before 
that  abortive  vizard  of  a  sacrament  was  put  upon  it.'  And  a  little 
after :  —  'If  this  part  of  discipline  were  nowadays  in  force,  the 
slackness  of  many  parents  would  be  much  quickened,  who  pass  over 
the  institution  (or  instruction)  of  their  children,  as  a  business  no- 
thing pertaining  to  them,  which  then  without  some  public  disgrace 
they  could  not  omit :  besides,  there  would  be  less  ignorance,  and 
more  concord  in  articles  of  faith  among  Christian  people ;  neither 
would  they  so  easily  be  carried  away  with  new  and  strange 
opinions.'  " 

Thus  far  Dr.  Hackwell,  who  might  have  added  the  words  of  the 
great  Erasmus,  who  is  as  sound  in  this  point  as  any  of  those  whose 

•  [Luther,  vid.  not.  c.  supra.]  fol.  317  b.] 

'  [Confess.  Eccles.  Saxon,  cap.  de        1»  [  De  Concil.  Trident,  lib.  ii.  p. 

f  Confirm,  torn.  i.  fol.  129  b.]  ^SQ.] 

1  [De  vera  Relig.  de  Saoram.  torn,  ii.        '  Cap.  19.  parag.  13.  fp.  39(.] 


62 


APPENDIX. 


testimonies  he  hath  alleged  ;  and  was  the  first,  I  think,  in  these 
later  ages  that  earnestly  recommended  and  pressed  such  a  confirma- 
tion of  the  baptismal  vow  as  the  Church  of  England  uses.  His 
words  are  these,  in  his  larger  Preface  to  his  Annotations  on  the  New 
Testament  J : 

"  The  reason  we  have  such  multitudes  of  Christians  so  rude  that 
they  understand  not  much  more  of  Christian  wisdom  than  they  who 
are  perfect  strangers  to  the  Christian  profession,  is  to  be  imputed,  I 
think,  in  great  part  to  the  priests.  But  I  see  a  way,  I  iraaginCj 
whereby  we  may  have  people  less  unfit  to  read  the  holy  books ; 
which  is,  if  there  be  a  summary  of  faith  and  Christian  doctrine 
every  year  propounded  to  Christian  people,  with  a  perspicuous  bre- 
vity and  a  learned  simplicity.  And  lest  any  thing  should  be  cor- 
rupted by  the  fault  of  the  preacher,  I  would  have  a  book  made  by 
learned  and  upright  men,  which  should  be  recited  to  the  multitude 
by  the  mouth  of  the  priest.  And  I  desire  it  may  not  be  drawn  out 
of  human  puddles,  but  out  of  the  gospel  foimtain,  and  apostolical 
epistles,  and  the  Creed.  Which,  whether  it  be  the  apostles'  or  no, 
1  know  not,  but  certain  it  is,  it  carries  in  it  the  apostoUcal  majesty 
and  purity.  This,  I  conceive,  may  be  done  not  unseasonably  in  the 
Easter  holv-days.  Which  will  be  far  better  than  by  silly  and  sometimes 
obscene  jests  to  excite  the  poor  people  to  laughter ;  which  custom 
I  cannot  tell  what  fiend  brought  into  the  church.  For  though  the 
people  are  to  be  kept  in  obedience  by  some  pleasure,  and  sometime 
to  be  excited  to  it ;  yet  by  such  ludicrous  ways  to  provoke  laughter, 
is  fit  for  buffoons,  not  for  divines. 

"  And  this,  moreover,  seems  to  me  of  no  small  force  to  so  good 
an  end,  if  children  that  are  baptized,  when  they  are  grown  up  to 
ripeness,  be  commanded  to  be  present  at  such  sermons,  in  which 
they  may  hear  plainly  and  clearly  declared  what  their  baptismal 
profession  contains  in  it  :  and  if,  after  this,  they  be  diligently  ex- 
amined by  some  good  men,  whether  they  sufficiently  understand 
and  remember  those  things  which  the  priest  taught  them.  If  they 
do,  let  them  be  asked  then  whether  they  approve  of  that  and  ratify 
it,  which  their  godfathers  and  godmothers  professed  in  their  name 
when  they  were  baptized.  If  they  answer  that  they  do  ratify  it, 
then  let  that  profession  be  pubhcly  renewed  in  the  sight  of  their 
equals  all  gathered  together,  with  such  grave,  apt,  chaste,  serious 
and  magnificent  ceremonies  as  become  that  profession  than  which 
none  can  be  more  holy.  For  what  are  human  professions  but  cer- 
tain images  of  this  most  holy  profession  ;  that  is,  a  calling  back  of 
j  [Pio  lectori,  &c — 0pp.  tom.vii.  init.] 


APPENDIX. 


63 


Christianity,  too  much  sunk  into  the  world  ?  Now  the  monks  know 
how  to  commend  their  profession  to  the  people  with  such  counter- 
feit ceremonies,  and  act  their  part  so  notably,  that  tears  sometimes 
burst  out  of  the  spectators'  eyes.  How  much  more  becoming  is  it 
to  do  that  in  this  far  most  religious  profession,  wherein  we  give  up 
our  names  not  to  men,  but  unto  Christ,  and  swear  not  to  the  rule  of 
Francis,  or  Ben  net,  but  to  the  rule  of  the  gospel  ? 

"  By  this  means  youth  may  come  to  understand  what  service  they 
owe  to  their  Lord,  and  what  endeavours  they  should  use  to  attain 
true  piety  ;  and  the  elder  people  also  will  be  put  in  mind  how  many 
ways  they  have  erred  and  gone  astray  from  their  vows.  You  shall 
see  now  comedies  acted  in  some  churches  (which  I  shall  not  med- 
dle withal)  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  of  his  ascension  to  heaven, 
and  of  his  sending  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  how  magnificent  would 
this  spectacle  be,  to  hear  the  voice  of  so  many  youths  dedicating 
themselves  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  so  many  striplings  taking  their 
oath  of  fidelity  to  him,  renouncing  the  world  which  all  lies  in 
wickedness,  adjuring  and  hissing  at  the  devil,  with  all  his  pomps, 
pleasures  and  works  ?  To  see  new  Christians  carrying  their  gene- 
ral's mark  in  their  forehead  ?  To  see  a  flock  of  candidates  coming 
from  the  sacred  laver  ?  To  hear  the  voice  of  the  rest  of  the  multi- 
tude applauding  and  wishing  well  to  these  young  soldiers  of  Christ  ? 

"These  things  I  would  have  so  to  be  done  publicly,  that  there 
should  be  never  the  less  care  used  from  their  very  cradles  to  instil 
into  them  both  privately  and  publicly  the  doctrine  of  Christ  as  much 
as  is  possible.  And  they  will  be  of  the  greater  authority  if  these 
things  be  done  by  the  bishops  themselves,  and  not  by  parish  priests 
or  hired  suffragans.  And  were  they  done  as  they  ought,  I  am  very 
much  deceived  if  we  should  not  have  Christians  something  more 
sincere  than  now  we  have. 

"  But  there  are  two  scruples  here  arise.  One  is,  that  this  seems 
to  be  a  repeating  baptism,  which  is  not  lawful.  The  other  is,  that 
there  may  be  danger  lest  some,  hearing  the  profession  they  are  to 
make,  should  not  approve  what  was  done  in  their  names  by  their 
godfathers  and  godmothers.  The  first  of  which  is  easily  discussed, 
if  these  things  be  so  managed  that  they  be  nothing  else  but  an  in- 
stauration  or  representation  of  their  former  baptism  :  which  is  done 
every  day  when  we  are  sprinkled  with  holy  water  at  our  entering 
into  the  church.  The  other  hath  more  difficulty  in  it :  but  all  things 
are  to  be  attempted  lest  any  one  should  start  back  from  the  first 
faith.  Which  if  it  cannot  be  obtained,  perhaps  it  is  best  not  to 
compel  him,  but  to  leave  him  to  himself  till  he  repent :  and  not  to 


64 


APPENDIX. 


inflict  ou  him  any  other  punishment  in  the  mean  time,  but  to  deny 
him  the  benefit  of  the  holy  communion  and  other  sacraments  of  the 
church  ;  but  let  him  neither  be  excluded  from  prayer  nor  from 
sermon. 

"And  I  would  have  little  books  carried  about  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, in  which  that  pure  Jesus  should  be  lively  described,  and  as  it 
were  painted  before  their  eyes  :  not  clouded  with  Jewish  ceremonies, 
or  with  the  devices  and  decrees  of  men  :  finally,  not  sour  and  harsh, 
but  just  as  he  is,  friendly,  sweet,  and  amiable.  They  that  are  in- 
structed in  such  rudiments  will  not  be  altogether  unprepared  for  the 
reading  of  the  Holy  Bible." 


MENSA  MYSTICA: 


A  DISCOURSE 

CONCEKNING  THE 

SACRAMENT  OF  THE  LORD'S  SUPPER. 

IN  WHICH 

THE  ENDS  OF  ITS  INSTITUTION  ARE  SO  MANIFESTED; 
OUR  ADDRESSES  TO  IT  SO  DIRECTED; 
OUR  BEHAVIOUR  THERE,  AND  AFTERWARD,  SO  COMPOSED; 
THAT  WE  MAY  NOT  LOSE 
THE  BENEFITS  WHICH  ARE  TO  BE  RECEIVED  BY  IT, 

I  Cor.  vi.  24. — Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me. 


PATRICK;  VOL.  I.  P 


TO  THE  HONOURABLE 

SIR  WALTER  ST.  JOHN,  BARONET, 

AND  THE 

LADY  ST.  JOHN,  HIS  WIFE. 


THESE  Meditations  being  conceived  and  born  in  your  house,  I 
take  it  to  be  a  piece  of  justice  that  they  should  lay  themselves  at 
your  feet,  and  come  abroad  into  the  world  under  your  name.  (And 
long  before  this  had  they  come  to  tender  their  service  to  you,  had 
the  press  been  favourable  to  them,  and  not  let  them  stick  longer 
there  than  they  did  in  my  mind,  before  they  could  be  brought  forth 
into  the  world.)    Love  hath  as  great  a  power  to  make  servants  as 
any  thing  else,  and  no  bondman  is  faster  chained  than  he  that  is 
tied  by  the  bands  of  his  own  affection.    A  captive  of  that  quality  I 
must  needs  profess  myself,  having  such  a  feeling  of  the  obligations 
you  have  laid  upon  me,  that  I  am  not  free  to  love  you,  or  not  to 
love  you  ;  but  am  held  under  such  a  sweet  tyranny  that  I  cannot  so 
much  as  desire  to  recover  my  former  liberty.    These  thoughts, 
therefore,  being  the  births  of  one  so  bound  to  serve  you  both  by 
your  favours  and  his  own  affections,  according  to  the  law  of  the 
Hebrews'  you  may  challenge  a  right  in  them,  seeing  I  am  yours  as 
much  as  my  own.    I  know  that  I  am  writing  to  you,  and  not 
of  you  ;  and  that  you  do  not  expect  my  commendation,  but  my 
counsel,  for  if  you  did,  you  would  not  deserve  commendation. 
There  is  so  much  flattery  many  times  in  these  addresses,  that  men 
will  not  believe  us  when  we  say  true,  and  so  we  displease  while  we 
study  to  please.    The  world  likewise  is  so  envious,  that  they  never 
think  more  of  our  faults  than  when  we  are  praised.    But  yet  to  tell 
you  of  your  kindness  to  me,  though  you  do  not  expect  it,  methinks 
I  might  be  allowed,  were  it  not  that  then  I  should  commend  myself 
for  a  grateful  person  after  I  have  declined  to  commend  you.  But 
seeing  that  is  no  such  great  virtue  that  a  man  should  be  tempted  to 
be  proud  of  it.  I  shall  say  thus  much  ;  that  of  all  the  causes  that  are 
usually  assigned  of  these  Dedications,  I  can  find  the  impulse  of  none 

'  Ex.  xxi.  2. 

F  % 


(•8 


THE  EPISTLE 


so  strong  as  that  of  love  and  gratitude.  Which  l)ids  me  bind  my 
executors  by  these  presents  (if  these  papers  can  live  longer  than  I), 
to  acknowledge  your  love,  and  ever  be  mindful  of  it  to  you  and 
yours.  And  although  I  may  justly  suspect  that  they  have  not 
strength  enough  to  live  to  any  great  age,  yet  if  they  can  increase 
your  piety  but  in  the  least  degree,  that  is  a  thing  that  never  dies, 
and  will  be  an  immortal  witness  of  my  endeavours  to  serve  you. 
To  the  study  of  that  it  is  that  I  do  most  affectionately  exhort  you. 
Do  well,  and  you  shall  hear  well',  though  mine  and  all  other  pens  lie 
asleep.  Piety  is  the  truest  and  most  ancient  nobilityJ,  as  wickedness 
is  the  greatest  and  basest  degeneracy.  There  is  no  such  way  to 
exalt  your  family  as  to  make  a  strict  alliance  with  God,  and  to  draw 
him  into  your  kindred.  Nothing  can  so  enrich  your  blood,  as  to 
contract  an  affinity  with  the  blood  of  Jesus.  But  if  earthly  honour 
be  of  any  value  (as  it  may  conduce  to  the  better  serving  of  God) 
you  have  the  favour  granted  unto  you  to  be  noble  both  in  your 
soul  and  body,  to  be  allied  both  to  the  blood  of  God  and  of  great 
men.  The  saint  in  your  name  may  put  you  in  mind  to  be  saints  in 
■\  ourselves.  The  two  mullets  or  stars  in  your  coat  of  arms''  bids  you 
shine  like  two  lights  in  the  world.  The  occasion  of  your  bearing 
them  (which,  if  I  mistake  not,  was  because  your  progenitors  warred 
in  the  Holy  Land)  may  put  you  in  remembrance  to  strive  and  fight 
to  be  made  free  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  that  city  of  God  that  is 
above.  As  these  stars  were  borne  in  their  ensigns  in  that  expedition 
in  opposition  to  the  Turkish  crescent,  so  let  them  put  you  in  mind 
to  keep  the  world  still  under  your  feet,  and  to  scorn  these  mutable 
and  moon-like  things  as  much  as  you  do  Mahomet  and  the  Turk. 
There  is  a  spring  in  that  country  where  your  name  first  took  root 
in  British  soil',  which  is  very  low  and  empty  of  water  when  the 
sea  flows  and  swells  the  neighbouring  river  Ogmar,  and  again 
ascends  and  fills  itself  when  the  sea  retires  out  of  the  Channel.  It 
will  be  a  most  lovely  sight  both  to  God  and  man  to  see  you  humble 


'    [XlflptM)   KoXioS   TTOIUV,  Kai    o'i'tO!  KOp- 

n<iari  rh  Ka\u>s  aKovnv, — Epict.  apud 
Stob.  Floril.  tit.  i.  52.] 

)  [The  author  had  probably  in  mind 
the  well-known  saying  of  Juvenal, 

Nobilitas  sola  est  atque  unica  virtus, 
Sat.  viii.  20.] 

^  [The  anus  of  the  St.  John  family, 
represented  by  the  Viscounts  Boling- 
broke,  are  Arg.  on  a  chief,  gu.,  two 
mullets,  or.  A  mullet  in  heraldry,  it 
may  be  remarked,  is  a  star  pierced,  in 


French  molelle,  mediseval  Latin  moleta, 
'  a  spur-rowel,'  from  the  Latin  root 
molere,  '  to  grind,'  '  sharpen,'  &c.] 

'  See  Camden  in  Glamorganshire ; — 
jS'ympha  fluit  propius  :  fons  refluit;  ilia 
recedit; 

Iste  redit.     Sic  livor  incst  et  pugna 
perennis. 

[From  lines  on  Sandford's  well,  by 
'  the  learned  J.  Starling,'  Camden, 
Britannia,  &c.  by  Gougli,  vol.  ii.  p. 
494-] 


DEDICATORY 


69 


and  lowly  in  the  highest  tides  of  a  swelling  fortune ;  and  if  your 
fulness  should  abate  and  draw  back  into  the  ocean  from  whence  it 
came,  to  behold  the  elevation  of  your  spirit  and  the  greatness  of  your 
mind  rising  above  all  the  reach  of  these  worldly  changes.  Then 
would  you  most  truly  imitate  those  stars  in  your  escutcheon,  which 
are  not  seen  in  the  day,  and  shine  most  brightly  in  the  night. 

But  your  name  bids  you  above  all  things  to  be  full  of  love  both 
to  each  other  and  towards  all  men.  For  beside  that  John  in  the 
Hebrew  language  carries  in  its  signification  '  graciousness  and  kind- 
ness ™  ;'  the  beloved  disciple  was  the  first  of  your  name.  Degenerate 
not,  I  beseech  you,  from  so  worthy  a  precedent,  but  embrace  with 
as  dear  an  afl^ection  as  two  St.  Johns  would  have  done  each  other. 
That  great  saint  had  this  always  in  his  mouth,  Little  children ,  love  one 
another ;  the  same  have  you  always  in  your  heart,  seeing  you  are  not 
only  Christians,  but  of  the  same  family  and  of  the  same  name  which 
carries  a  remembrance  of  that  divine  person.  The  Athenians  pro- 
mised themselves  nothing  but  triumphs  in  the  Sicilian  war,  because 
their  general  Nicias  derived  his  name  from  'victory",'  which  in  the 
opinion  of  men  had  a  good  presage  in  it.  And  some  of  the  ancient 
philosophers"  did  seriously  dispute  whether  there  was  not  some  se- 
cret fate  or  providence  in  it,  that  men  should  have  names  given 
them  that  did  so  exactly  agree  with  their  after  good  or  bad  fortune. 
I  hope  you  will  not  think  me  impertinent  therefore,  that  I  have 
urged  you  so  much  with  your  name,  and  that  you  will  not  let  it  be 
given  you  for  nothing.  And  though  that  Nicias  by  his  great  over- 
throw did  disappoint  the  hopes  which  his  fellow  citizens  conceived 
from  his  name,  yet  you  will  have  a  care  that  you  deceive  not  the 
expectation  both  of  God  and  man  from  you,  which  is  grounded  upon 
a  better  foundation.  I  verily  believe  that  you  will  endeavour  to  be 
cfjepdivvfioi  (as  the  Greeks  call  themP),  'persons  of  your  own  name.' 
And  as  the  apostle  prays  for  his  Thessalonians,  i  Thess.  iii.  12,  13, 
you  will  increase  and  abound  in  love  one  toward  another,  and  towards 
all  men,  to  the  end  that  you  may  establish  your  hearts  unblumeable  in 
holiness  be/ore  God,  even  our  Father,  at  the  coming  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  with  all  his  saints.  Let  me  speak  to  you  and  all  others  once 
more  in  the  words  of  another  apostle  'i :  Finally,  be  ye  all  of  one  mind, 

[;;nin'  'whom  Jehovah  gave,'  o  Plato  in  Cratylo. 

Jehohanan,  Johanan,  of  frequent  oc-  P  'O  ElpTiva7os  (pfpui/v/xis  tis  &y  rt) 

currence  in  the  Old  Testament.  Hence  irpo<Tr)7opi'a.  —  Euscb.  [II.  E.  v.  24.  p. 

the  Greek  forms 'Iwa^/i/oj  and 'lajoi/vrjj.]  ^49-]     Severus  imperator  gravis,  et 

°    [Th  Sai,u6viov  auT(f  8i'  ihai^uav  vir  norainis  sui  dicitur. — Lamprid.  [in 

iiraivvfitf   y&eadai  toC   fj.(yl(Trov   Kal  Severo,  cap.  1 2.  inter  Hist.  August. 

koAXiVtoo  tuv  ayaOtiiv  S45aiK(. — Plut.  Script.  518.] 

in  Nicia,  cap.  10.]  4  i  Pet.  iii.  8. 


70 


THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY. 


having  compassion  one  of  another;  love  as  brethren,  be  pitiful,  be 
courteous.  But  what  need  I  insist  so  long  on  this,  who  find  you  so 
full  of  love  towards  me  }  It  is  a  delightful  subject,  and  therefore  you 
will  pardon  my  vehemence  in  it.  But  though  it  be  delightful,  yet  I 
will  refrain  myself  from  enumerating  my  particular  obligations,  be- 
cause I  know,  sir,  that  you  do  not  do  your  kindnesses  that  they 
should  be  talked  of.  And  for  you,  madam,  who  carry  kindness  in 
both  your  names'",  I  know  also  that  you  love  to  be  concealed,  and 
that  your  love  should  have  none  to  speak  of  it  but  itself ;  and  there- 
fore I  shall  forbear  to  say  how  much  (at  least  to  me)  you  answer 
the  double  remembrance  you  have  in  them.  It  will  be  more  accept- 
able, I  know,  to  you  both,  if  I  turn  this  address  to  you  into  a  prayer 
to  God,  that  he  would  do  all  this  and  much  more  for  you.  And  to 
that  God  of  peace  from  whom  all  good  comes,  I  humbly  bow  my 
knees,  that  he  would  make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work  to  do  his 
will,  working  in  you  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in  his  sight,  through 
Jesus  Christ;  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever^.  The  more  parti- 
cular petitions  that  concern  you  I  shall  put  up  alone,  and  ever  remain, 
what  I  am  much  engaged  to  be. 

Your  aflfectionate 

Friend  and  servant, 

S.  PATRICK. 

From  y.our  house  at  Battersea, 
Jan.  27,  i6|f. 


'  [Lady  St.  John's  Christian  name 
■was  Johanna.  She  was  the  eldest 
daughter  of  sir  OUver  St.  John,  the 
distinguished  lawyer  under  the  Com- 
monwealth, who  was  appointed  Lord 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas, 


1648,  ambassador  to  Holland,  1651, 
and  died  1673. — Burke's  and  Collins' 
Peerages,  &c.  Lord  Campbell's  Lives 
of  Lord  Chief  Justices,  vol.  i.  p.  47  7.] 
s  Heb.  xiii.  ii. 


THE 

INTEODUCTION. 


Shewing,  i.  That  God  manifests  himself  to  our  sense.  2.  That  bread  and 
wine  are  fit  things  for  the  representing  our  Lord  to  us.  3.  The  first 
reason  of  the  celebration  of  this  supper,  and  the  fittest  time  for  us  to  do 
this  that  Christ  commands  us.  4.  Which  is  but  a  reiteration  of  what  is 
done  in  baptism.  5.  As  may  be  seen  by  what  I  have  briefly  writ  on  that 
subject.  6.  And  if  we  will  extend  this  thing  further,  we  may  lose  all. 
The  papists  in  danger  of  this,  who  speak  not  the  language  of  the  ancient 
church.  7.  The  design  of  this  present  discoiirse.  8.  The  alleging  of 
some  heathen  customs  and  principles  need  be  no  oflTence  to  any,  but 
may  be  an  help  if  they  please. 

I.  GOD,  who  is  simple  and  removed  far  from  all  sense, 
considering  the  weakness  of  man's  soul,  and  how  unable  he  is 
to  conceive  of  things  spiritual  purely  and  nakedly  in  them- 
selves ;  and  yet  having  a  mind  to  be  better  known  unto  us,  and 
to  make  himself  more  manifest  than  ever,  was  pleased  in  his  in- 
finite goodness  to  dwell  in  flesh,  and  appear  here  in  the  person 
of  his  Son,  who  was  made  like  to  man,  to  shew  what  God  is  in 
our  nature.  This  Son  of  his,  being  to  die  and  part  with  his 
life  for  great  ends  and  purposes,  which  he  would  not  have  us 
to  forget,  was  pleased  to  take  the  same  course  to  convey  to  our 
minds  spiritual  notions  by  outward  and  sensible  signs,  and  to 
impress  on  our  hearts  what  he  hath  done  and  suffered,  by  a  vi- 
sible representation  of  it  in  bodily  things,  and  not  only  by  a 
plain  description  of  it  in  the  gospel.  He  knew  very  well  that  a 
picture  and  image  of  a  thing  doth  more  aff"ect  us  than  an  his- 
torical narration ;  and  that  the  more  lively  and  express  that 
image  is,  the  more  lively  motions  it  makes  within  us.  A  dead 
corpse  is  but  the  shadow  of  a  man,  and  yet  we  find  that  our 
souls  are  more  assaulted  and  all  our  passions  stirred  by  the 
sight  of  the  face  of  a  dead  friend,  than  by  all  the  reports  that 
are  brought  us  of  his  death.  And  long  after  his  corpse  is 
mouldered  in  the  grave,  if  we  see  a  child  of  his  that  hath  his 


72 


The  Introduction. 


exact  features,  manners,  and  carriage,  it  renews  a  fresh  remem- 
brance in  us  of  that  person,  and  stirs  up  the  images  that  are  in 
our  mind  more  powerfully  than  we  can  do  ourselves  by  re- 
flections upon  them. 

But  though  God  was  willing  to  teach  us  by  outward  and 
sensible  representations,  yet  he  thought  it  both  unsafe,  and 
likewise  unfit,  and  no  ways  conducing  to  the  spiritual  ends  he 
intended  in  the  sacrament  of  Christ's  body  and  blood,  that  we 
should  have  a  picture  of  Christ  or  an  image  of  him  set  before 
our  eyes.  There  is  too  much  of  sense  in  the  tragical  and 
theatrical  representations  which  are  made  by  some  papists 
of  Christ's  sufferings.  The  outward  actions  are  in  danger 
not  only  to  take  place  of  all  spiritual  affections,  but  quite  to 
thrust  them  out.  The  eye  and  the  ear  are  so  fully  possessed, 
that  their  objects  work  by  their  own  natural  strength,  and  not 
by  the  soul's  considering  and  meditating  powers.  Our  Saviour, 
therefore,  that  he  might  both  help  the  soul,  and  leave  it  some- 
thing to  do  in  making  of  its  own  thoughts,  and  forming  its  own 
apprehensions  and  resentments,  hath  given  us  only  bread  and 
wine  as  remembrances  of  him :  in  which  we  see  so  much  as  to 
awaken  our  souls,  but  not  so  much  as  to  keep  them  awake 
without  themselves.  They  show  Christ  to  our  senses,  but  more 
to  our  minds ;  that  so  both  may  be  employed,  but  the  mind 
may  do  most  by  the  help  of  the  senses. 

II.  And  indeed  these  are  very  fit  things  (upon  other  reasons) 
to  serve  our  Saviour's  design,  because 

1 .  First  of  all,  they  are  similar  bodies,  and  not  consisting  of 
heterogeneous  parts,  i.  e.  their  parts  are  not  of  different  kinds, 
as  the  parts  of  our  flesh  are.  The  flesh  of  a  man  is  composed 
of  veins,  and  arteries,  and  nerves,  and  blood,  and  muscles,  and 
divers  skins ;  but  every  part  of  bread  and  wine  is  Uke  the 
other,  and  hath  nothing  in  it  different  from  its  neighbour. 
Every  piece  of  the  one,  and  every  drop  of  the  other,  doth  as 
much  represent  what  is  intended,  as  any  other  part  doth ;  and 
all  the  parts  together  make  one  body  of  the  very  same  sort. 

2.  And  yet,  secondly,  the  parts  of  these  bodies  are  easily  se- 
parated one  from  another,  which  makes  them  more  fit  to  be 
communicated  and  divided  among  a  great  many,  who  all  not- 
withstanding do  receive  (as  it  were)  the  very  same  thing. 

3.  And  thirdly,  they  are  constantly  used  at  all  feasts  and 


The  Introduction. 


73 


never  omitted,  whereas  other  things  have  their  seasons  and 
cannot  do  continual  service  at  our  tables. 

4.  To  which  you  may  add,  fourthly,  that  they  were  brought 
by  Melchizedec  unto  Abraham,  as  a  part  perhaps  of  the  bless- 
ing of  that  high  priest,  and  as  a  signification  of  that  sacrament 
which  God  would  have  Abraham's  seed  to  feed  upon,  when  the 
true  high  priest  after  that  great  man's  order  should  come. 

5.  And  fifthly,  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  they  do  best  an- 
swer to  some  things  whereunto  Chi'ist  is  compared  in  the  holy 
scriptures.  For  he  is  called  the  vine,  and  every  branch  that  is 
in  him  must  bring  forth  fruit^,  as  he  doth,  which  may  hereby 
be  represented.  And  he  is  called  the  bread  of  life  which  came 
doivn  from  heaven^  as  the  manna  in  the  wilderness,  who  is  to 
support  our  souls  as  the  stalf  of  bread  doth  our  bodies. 

6.  Sixthly,  but  it  is  most  to  be  remarked,  that  these  were 
part  of  the  Passover  supper,  when  Chi'ist  (as  St.  Cyril  of 
Alexandria^  speaks)  was  typically  eaten  in  Egypt.  For,  first, 
it  is  acknowledged  by  all  that  the  bread  was  blessed  and  the 
cup  also,  and  so  went  round  to  all  the  guests ;  and  the  forms  of 
benediction  are  still  extant  in  some  of  the  Hebrew  authors. 
And  secondly,  the  whole  feast  after  the  Passover  night  was 
called  the  feast  of  unleavened  bread.  And  thirdly,  it  is  the 
opinion,  I  observe,  of  some^,  that  our  Saviour  at  the  time  of 
instituting  this  sacrament  did  eat  only  the  bread  and  the  bitter 
herbs,  but  not  the  Lamb  of  the  Passover.  For  it  is  not  said  in 
the  Evangelists  that  his  chsciples  killed  the  Passover  for  lum, 
but  only  that  they  made  ready  the  Passover,  which  might  be 
nothing  else  but  that  bread  of  affliction,  and  the  herbs  which 
were  attended  with  the  cup  of  kindness  that  used  to  pass 
among  them.  For  our  Saviour  died  at  the  time  the  Passover 
lamb  was  offered,  being  indeed  the  Lamb  of  God  himself.  And 
therefore  St.  John  saith  that  the  supper  was  before  the  feast  of 
the  Passover^ ;  and  he  calls  it  eating  of  the  Passover,  be- 
cause this  was  a  great  part  of  it,  a  principal  portion  of  this 
feast.  And  this  part  was  all  that  they  could  partake  of,  who 
at  any  time  could  not  come  to  Jerusalem,  where  only  the  lamb 

a  John  XV.  I,  2.  part.  2.  p.  375  A.] 

b  lb.  vi.  35,  41,  8.  51,  8.  d  Grot,  [in  Matt.  xxvi.  18.  0pp. 

'O  TVTTLKSyS  ^pU)df'lS  fV  AlyVTTTW.       tOVCI .  U.  p.  246.] 

[  Horn,   in  Myst.   Coen.  torn.  v.       e  John  xiii.  i. 


74 


The  Introduction. 


was  to  be  eaten,  being  first  offered  at  the  temple.  But  sup- 
posing this  to  be  doubtful,  yet  there  is  no  question  but  that 
this  lamb  was  a  ij^e  of  Christ,  and  that  bread  and  wine 
was  a  part  of  the  supper.  And  upon  search  I  believe  we  shall 
find  that  the  lamb  of  the  Passover  was  the  only  sacrifice  which 
the  people  did  wholly  eat  (its  blood  being  poured  out  at  the 
altar)  and  it  doth  the  better  set  forth  Christ  who  gives  himself 
wholly  to  us.  To  which,  fourthly,  may  be  added,  that  as  the 
paschal  lamb  did  represent  him,  so  the  manner  of  its  killing 
was  very  conformable  to  Christ's  death  upon  the  cross,  which 
may  make  it  more  reasonable  to  borrow  from  the  supper  re- 
semblances of  him.  For  they  hung  the  lamb  upon  nails  (much 
what  as  butchers  now  do  a  sheep  which  they  have  killed),  and 
then  flayed  off  its  skin  that  it  might  be  dressed.  While  it  hung 
in  this  posture  it  was  just  like  the  situation  of  Christ's  body 
upon  the  cross  (as  Buxtorf  hath  observed  out  of  the  Talmud), 
whose  hands  were  so  spread  and  legs  so  stretched  out  as  the 
lamb  was.  Fifthly,  unto  which  I  may  add,  that  the  law  of 
Moses  was  not  to  be  wholly  destroyed,  but  to  be  changed  and 
altered  by  Christ.  So  the  apostle  teacheth  us  to  speak  in 
Heb.  vii.  12.  And  the  malice  of  St.  Stephen's  accusers  could 
prompt  them  to  say  no  worse  of  him,  than  that  he  preached 
Jesus  should  change  the  customs  which  Moses  delivered^. 
Circumcision  is  commanded  under  the  title  of  an  everlastino- 
covenant,  and  it  is  not  so  much  abolished  as  improved  into  a 
better  sacrament  and  seal  of  greater  blessings  to  mankind. 
The  sabbath  day  likewise  was  to  be  a  commemoration  of  God's 
rest  from  all  his  works  on  the  seventh  day,  and  of  his  dehver- 
ance  of  them  out  of  Egypt ;  and  it  is  not  cancelled,  but  changed 
into  another  day,  which  contains  the  former  and  something 
else,  even  a  remembrance  of  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord  from 
the  dead,  that  he  might  enter  into  his  rest.  So  we  may  con- 
ceive that  this  great  feast  of  the  Passover  was  not  quite  done 
away,  but  gave  place  to  a  better  feast,  which  is  in  memory  of  a 
greater  deliverance  than  that  from  the  thraldom  of  Egypt  and 
the  iron  furnace.  In  this  the  Jewish  Christians  might  still 
commemorate  their  ancient  mercies  as  well  as  if  they  had  eaten 
the  flesh  of  their  lamb.  Yea,  because  there  was  in  it  such  a 
clear  representation  of  Christ's  sufferings  (especially  in  its  first 

f  Acts  vi.  14. 


The  Introduction. 


75 


institution,  when  the  blood  was  sprinkled  on  the  door-posts), 
part  of  it  was  thought  fit  still  to  remain,  viz.  the  bread  and 
wine,  which  they  used  to  eat  and  drink  in  memory  of  that 
mercy  with  solemn  forms  of  thanksgiving  unto  God.  And 
lastly,  the  bread  and  wine  was  more  fit  than  the  flesh  to  be  re- 
tained, because  now  that  Christ  is  come  all  sacrifices  are  to 
cease,  and  no  more  blood  is  to  be  shed  for  sin.  This,  I  say, 
may  be  a  good  reason  why  bread  and  wine  only  are  used,  be- 
cause they  are  unbloody  things ;  and  after  the  killing  of  the 
Lamb  of  God,  there  is  to  be  no  more  life  offered  for  our 
offences. 

II.  This  feast  our  Saviour  did  first  of  all  celebrate  with 
his  twelve  disciples.  And  it  was  but  fit  that  he  should  do  so, 
that  he  might  the  better  answer  to  the  type  in  Exod  xxix, 
where  we  read  that  Aaron  the  high-priest  with  his  sons  was  to 
eat  the  breast  and  shoulder  of  the  ram  of  consecration,  where- 
by he  was  sanctified  to  ofiiciate  in  the  priesthood.  Even  so  our 
Lord,  being  to  be  offered  up  in  sacrifice,  and  thereby  to  be 
consecrated  an  high-priest,  did  institute  this  supper,  that  toge- 
ther with  his  disciples  he  might  (as  much  as  is  possible)  feast 
with  them  upon  that  sacrifice.  And  seeing  our  Saviour's  sacri- 
fice answered  both  to  the  paschal  lamb  and  the  propitiatory  sa- 
crifice on  the  day  of  expiation,  it  will  be  no  wonder  if  it  were 
so  complete  as  to  have  reference  to  this  also. 

The  time  when  it  was  first  instituted  was  in  the  night  when 
he  was  betrayed  (for  at  the  even  they  celebrated  the  Passover) ; 
which  makes  some  (I  suppose)  to  keep  the  memory  of  Christ's 
death  in  the  close  of  the  day.  But  if  they  think  that  they 
must  exactly  follow  that  precedent,  they  should  do  it  after 
supper.  And  I  rather  think  that  the  manner  of  receiving 
about  noon  is  most  agreeable  to  the  true  pattern.  For  we  do 
not  remember  the  supper  of  the  Lord,  but  his  sacrifice  on  the 
cross.  And  therefore  as  the  Jews  feasted  at  even  because  they 
came  out  of  Egypt  at  that  time,  so  should  we  feast  about  noon 
because  our  Lord's  death  began  between  nine  and  twelve,  and 
ended  about  three  of  the  clock,  as  you  will  clearly  see  by  com- 
paring the  relation  of  St.  Mark  and  St.  John  together.  It  is 
said  that  it  was  about  the  sixth  hours,  when  Christ  was  con- 
demned to  be  crucified.  But  St.  Mark  speaks  of  his  sentence 
and  of  the  execution  of  it  as  things  done  before  the  sixth  hour, 
s  John  xix.  14. 


76 


The  Introduction. 


and  saitli  that  just  when  the  sixth  hour  ivas  come,  then  dark- 
ness spread  over  all  the  land  till  the  ninth  honr^^.  They  do 
very  well  agree  if  we  do  but  understand  thus  much,  that  the 
day  being  divided  into  four  equal  parts,  consisting  of  three 
hours  apiece,  every  part  had  the  name  of  that  liour  when  it 
did  begin,  and  so  the  sixth  hour  was  from  twelve  to  three,  and 
then  began  the  ninth  hour.  Now  St.  John  doth  not  say  that 
it  was  the  sixth  hour  when  Pilate  gave  him  up  to  be  crucified, 
but  that  it  was  about  the  sixth  hour,  i.  e.  it  was  between  nine 
a  clock  (which  was  their  third  hour)  and  twelve,  but  nearer  to 
twelve  than  to  nine ;  or  it  drew  near  to  noon,  yet  not  so  near 
but  that  we  must  allow  time  for  the  leading  him  away  to  the 
cross,  for  the  hanging  him  thereupon,  and  the  rest.  Insomuch 
that  St.  ^lark  saith  expressly  that  it  was  but  the  third  hour^, 
i.  e.  nine  of  the  clock,  when  those  things  were  done.  Both  of 
them  say  true,  if  we  do  but  conceive  that  it  was  between  nine 
and  twelve,  i.  e.  about  half  an  hour  after  ten,  when  our  Lord 
was  hanged  on  the  cross.  All  the  time  between  nine  and 
twelve  being  called  (as  I  said)  the  third  hour.  St.  Mark 
saith  that  that  was  the  time ;  but  it  drawing  toward  twelve, 
St.  John  saith  it  was  about  the  sixth  hour.  And  ivlien  the 
sixth  hour  was  fully  come,  i.  e.  when  it  was  just  twelve 
a  clock  and  the  sun  was  in  its  meridian,  then  (saith  St.  Mark) 
Avas  it  eclipsed,  and  the  darkness  continued  till  three,  which 
was  the  time  of  the  olfering  of  the  evening  sacrifice,  and  just 
then  our  Lord  expired  and  gave  up  the  ghost.  From  whence 
we  may  clearly  gather,  that  our  Saviour  was  in  the  very  midst 
of  liis  sufferings  a  little  after  twelve.  Which  renders  it  unrea- 
sonable metliinks  to  innovate  and  forsake  the  common  form  by 
receiving  towards  night,  seeing  our  Saviour  was  in  the  middle 
and  bitterness  of  his  passion  about  noon  (which  is  the  common 
time  of  our  communions),  and  his  passion  was  quite  finished  a 
good  while  before  that  time,  wherein  some  do  celebrate  it. 

But  I  do  not  intend  that  this  discourse  should  beget  any 
quarrels,  and  therefore  I  forbear  the  prosecution  of  any  such 
observations,  which  you  must  not  expect  to  meet  withal  in 
these  papers  :  the  first  design  of  which  is  to  shew  you  for  what 
end  our  blessed  Lord  did  appoint  this  sacrament. 

IV.  And  here  I  might  be  tempted  to  make  use  of  that 
method  which  I  observed  in  a  little  discoru'se  concerning  bap- 
^  Mark  xv.  33.  >  lb.  25. 


The  Introduction. 


77 


tism  ;  for  that  whicli  is  done  here  is  but  a  further  confirmation 
of  what  was  then  agreed  on  between  God  and  us.  As  our 
knowledge  and  obedience  increases,  so  doth  hkewise  the  favour 
of  God  and  liis  testimonies  of  that  favoiu* :  and  the  more  liis 
mercies  are  assured  unto  us,  the  more  are  we  engaged  and 
confirmed  in  our  resohition  of  persisting  in  obedience.  So  that 
it  is  but  one  and  the  same  thing  that  is  thus  frequently  ratified, 
first  in  baptism,  and  afterward  in  confirmation,  and  lastly  in 
the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper.  For  tiiere  in  the  most 
solemn  manner  that  can  be  devised  we  profess  ourselves  fede- 
rates of  God,  and  he  again  owns  us  for  his  friends,  and  treats 
us  kindly  by  entertaining  us  at  his  own  table.  And  this  is  no 
strange  matter,  that  one  thing  should  be  so  often  repeated ; 
for  at  the  beginning  of  friendship  between  God  and  Abraham, 
he  only  made  him  a  promise,  that  he  would  make  him  a  great 
nation,  and  bless  him,  and  all  those  that  blessed  him,  and 
that  all  families  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed  in  himi.  But 
in  process  of  time,  when  love  was  increased  between  them,  this 
promise  became  a  covenant,  when  he  and  his  received  the 
token  of  circumcision,  as  you  may  read,  Gen.  xvii.  2,  4, 5,  Itvill 
make  my  covenant  betiveen  me  and  thee,  and  ivill  iniiltiply 
thee  exceedingly,  &c.  But  when  he  had  walked  longer  with 
God  (as  he  there  bids  him,  v.  i),  and  had  perfected  his  obc- 
tUence  by  offering  up  his  son,  his  only  son  Isaac,  then  God 
confirmed  the  covenant  by  an  oath,  and  sware  by  himself  that 
he  would  do  what  he  had  promised  and  scaled,  as  you  may  sec 
Gen.  xxii.  16 — 18,  By  myself  have  I  sworn,  that  in  blessing  I 
tvill  bless  thee,  &c.  This  may  be  conceived  as  a  good  repre- 
sentation of  God's  deahng  with  us  now.  At  our  first  entrance 
into  his  family  he  gives  us  many  promises  which  depend  upon 
conditions ;  and  afterwards  he  renews  tlie  covenant  with  us,  and 
doth  further  .ascertain  us  of  his  favour,  yet  on  terms  of  perse- 
verance ;  and  at  last  he  swears  unalterably,  when  wc  have 
given  proof  of  our  obedience  to  him,  that  he  will  not  take  away 
his  mercies  nor  his  lovino;-kindness  from  us.  And  it  is  ob- 
servable,  that  in  every  one  of  these  God  returned  soinothiiig  to 
Abraham  for  what  he  gave  to  God.  When  he  loft  his  own 
country  he  promised  him  tlie  laud  of  Canaan;  when  he  was 


j  Gen.  xii.  1,  2,  3. 


78 


The  Introduction. 


circumcised  he  promised  to  bless  his  seed,  yea,  he  promised  to 
liim  the  Messiah ;  and  when  he  offered  Isaac,  God  again  as- 
sured by  oath  that  his  own  Son  should  be  really  offered,  as 
Isaac  was  designed  to  be,  for  a  blessing  to  all  the  earth.  Even 
so  in  like  manner  doth  God  confer  new  graces  and  blessings 
on  us  when  we  are  baptized,  and  when  we  confirm  our  vows, 
and  when  we  partake  of  the  supper  of  the  Lord ;  so  that  it  is 
not  in  vain  to  reiterate  our  acts  of  sm'render  unto  God.  And 
thus  it  is  among  ourselves,  when  children  are  contracted  in 
theii'  yoimger  years  and  made  sure  to  each  other,  they  con- 
summate the  marriage  by  their  own  consent  when  they  are  of 
age  with  festival  joys.  And  many  of  these  married  persons 
likewise  renew  the  nuptial  ceremony  every  year,  and  observe 
the  day  that  they  entered  into  such  holy  bonds  with  more 
than  ordinary  cheer.  "\\Tiereby  they  strengthen  their  faith 
unto  each  other  by  an  open  profession  of  it  in  the  sight  of 
then-  friends,  and  they  tie  then*  hearts  faster  unto  each  other 
by  a  remembrance  of  their  promises,  and  they  become  more 
passionate  lovers  by  these  new  expressions  of  kindness.  Thus 
do  we  at  tliis  sacrament  but  tie  the  old  bond  with  a  faster 
knot,  and  press  harder  upon  the  former  seal  to  make  a  deeper 
mark  and  a  fairer  image  of  God  in  our  hearts ;  we  do  but 
renew  our  covenant  which  we  have  already  made,  swear  most 
solemnly  by  taking  it  upon  the  sacrament  (as  we  say)  that  we 
will  be  the  servants  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  And  it  is  very  easy  to 
lead  you  through  all  the  parts  of  the  former  method,  shewing 
you  both  how  on  our  part  and  God's  it  doth  confirm  a  cove- 
nant between  us. 

V.  And  perhaps  it  will  not  be  unprofitable  to  give  some 
brief  touches  upon  those  tilings  which  you  can,  without  trouble, 
enlarge  in  your  own  thoughts.  Wliich  is  one  reason  why  I 
shall  spare  myself  any  long  pains  about  them,  and  hold  another 
course  in  this  following  treatise. 

For  our  part,  we  do  here  profess  om'selves  of  the  rehgion 
that  Christ  hath  instituted  and  taught  us,  as  you  will  see  more 
largely  in  the  ensuing  book.  We  do  at  once,  in  this  feast,  both 
show  our  gladness  and  assure  him  of  om'  affections. 

Sin  is  here  represented  so  unto  us,  that  it  cannot  but  make 
our  wounds  bleed  afresh.  The  remembrance  of  Christ's  death 
doth  pierce  om'  hearts  again  with  godly  sorrow,  and  revives 


The  Introduction. 


79 


the  smart  and  pain  which  the  sense  of  sin  hath  created  in  our 
souls. 

Faith  likewise  here  is  as  greedy  of  its  food  as  an  hungry 
mouth  is  of  its  meat.  And  obedience  is  hereby  confirmed,  be- 
cause we  receive  lively  nourishment  into  our  souls,  which  will 
make  us  strong  to  execute  the  will  of  our  Lord.  Our  suffering 
also  with  Christ  we  profess  more  lively  than  by  water,  even 
by  blood  itself.  When  our  Saviour  saith  in  the  sixth  of  St.  John 
that  we  must  eat  of  his  flesh,  he  means,  we  must  believe  on 
him,  and  digest  his  doctrine ;  but  seeing  the  word  flesh  in 
Scripture-phrase  signifies  very  frequently  weakness  and  mean- 
ness, he  intends  that  we  must  i-eceive  him  so  as  to  partake 
with  him  in  his  poor,  low,  and  suffering  condition.  And  this 
we  do  most  notably  protest  that  we  will,  when  we  receive  the 
signs  of  his  broken  body.  For  the  bread  broken  doth  not  only 
argue  it  to  be  fit  for  food,  but  that  first  we  must  be  slain  and 
mortified,  and  likewise  receive  such  strength,  that  if  he  call  us 
unto  death  we  must  undergo  it.  We  own  hereby  the  covenant 
of  sufferings,  and  feed  upon  a  dead  Saviour.  Which  makes 
Theophylact''  give  this  as  a  reason  why  Christ  gave  thanks 
when  he  brake  the  bread,  Xva  Ka\  rnjcels  ovra  Sex^^M^^*^  e^X"" 
pt'oTws  TO  ixaprvpiov,  '  that  so  we  might  receive  martyrdom 
thankfully.'  It  is  a  feast  which  we  partake  of,  and  yet  signi- 
fies sufferings.  But  let  it  not  seem  strange,  for  we  must  count 
it  all  joy  when  we  fall  into  divers  temptations^. 

Neither  doth  it  less  signify  and  seal  on  God's  part,  being  a 
manifest  token  of  his  great  and  inexpressible  love,  in  giving  of 
his  own  Son  to  death,  even  to  the  cursed  death  of  the  cross,  for 
us.  Here  he  takes  us  not  only  under  his  wings  (as  I  said  he 
doth  in  baptism),  but  he  takes  us  into  his  arms.  He  takes  us 
to  himself,  and  he  gives  himself  wholly  unto  us. 

And  then  for  remission  of  sins,  it  is  manifest  to  be  the  pur- 
chase of  his  blood,  and  so  must  needs  further  here  be  assured 
to  all  good  souls.  And  it  is  the  very  thing  that  is  expressed 
in  the  institution  of  this  sacrament :  This  is  my  blood  of  the 
New  Testament  that  is  shed  for  many,  for  the  remission  of 
sins 

And  there  are  not  so  many  spirits  contained  in  the  wine  as 
^  [In  Matt.  xxvi.  torn,  i.  p,  146  E.]     '  [James  i,  2,]    "i  [Matt.  xxvi.  28.] 


80 


The  Introduction. 


there  are  lively  influences  of  God's  good  Spirit  hereby  con- 
veyed to  pious  hearts.  We  have  assurance  likeveise  given  by 
these  things,  that  he  will  not  take  his  Holy  Spirit  from  us, 
but  that  he  will  let  it  always  difl'use  itself  through  all  our 
powers. 

And  as  for  the  Resurrection  from  the  dead,  we  being  made, 
as  it  were,  of  his  flesh  and  of  his  bone,  and  incorporated  into 
him,  he  can  lose  none  of  his  members  ;  but  all  that  eat  of  his 
flesh  and  drink  of  his  blood  as  they  ought  shall  be  raised 
again  at  the  last  day.  We  eat  of  the  tree  of  hfe,  which  will 
make  us  live  for  ever ;  and  we  receive  (p&piiaKov  adavaa-Las, 
avTihoTov  Tov  a-noOaveiv,  as  Ignatius  speaks'^,  '  an  antidote 
against  death,  a  medicine  to  preserve  us  from  corruption.' 
This  the  ancient  Christians  thought  to  be  so  fully  assured  to 
us  in  the  Eucharist,  that  this  is  one  of  the  arguments  whereby 
Irenaeus  confutes  the  Valentinians,  who  denied  the  rising 
again  of  the  body  after  it  is  dead.  "  How  can  that  flesh  be 
corrupted,  and  not  live  again,  which  is  nourished  by  the  body 
and  blood  of  the  Lord  ?  Either  let  them  change  their  mind, 
or  else  abstain  from  this  off'ering.  For  as  the  bread  which  is 
of  the  earth,  receiving'  the  invocation  of  God,  is  no  longer 
common  bread,  but  the  Eucharist,  consisting  of  something 
earthly  and  something  heavenly  :  even  so  our  bodies,  receiv- 
ing '  this  Eucharist,  are  not  now  corruptible,  but  have  the  hopes 
of  a  resurrection."  Thus  he"",  who  hath  more  to  the  same  pur- 
pose in  another  book". 

Herein  likewise  God  gives  us  a  foretaste  of  heaven  and  the 
joys  to  come,  as  will  be  made  more  manifest  in  the  following 
Discourse.  And  thus  far  we  may  grant  the  bread  and  wine  of 
Melchizcdec  to  have  been  sacramental,  that  they  were  given 
to  Abraham  as  earnests,  for  to  secure  him  of  the  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey.  By  this  banquet  or  entertainment  which 
the  royal  priest  made  him,  he  took  'livery  of  seisin'  (as  our 
lawyers  speak)  of  the  promised  land.  And  in  that  very  place 
(it  is  most  likely)  where  God  intended  the  mother  city  of  the 
kingdom  should  be,  was  this  conveyance  made  to  Abraham's 

^  Epist.  ad  Ephes.  [Coteler.  Patr.  L.  iv.  adv.  Haeres.  c.  34.  [al.i8. 

Apost.  torn.  ii.  p.  16.]  p.  251.] 

'  ['  perceiving'  in  the  earlier  edi-       "  L.  v.  cap.  2.  [p.  294.] 
tions.] 


The  Introduction. 


81 


seed.  This  bread  and  wine  were  most  certain  evidences  that 
his  posterity  should  eat  of  the  fruit  of  that  land  wherein  now 
he  was  a  stranger.  And  just  in  the  same  manner  doth  God 
give  unto  faithful  souls  this  blessed  bread  and  wine  as  an  ante- 
past  of  liis  eternal  love  ;  and  hereby  they  begin  to  taste  of  the 
heavenly  feast  that  they  shall  celebrate  above.  They  have 
herein  a  right  made  them  unto  heaven,  and  a  kind  of  delivery 
of  possession  which  shall  shortly  be  completed  by  an  actual  en- 
joyment. 

VI.  They  that  would  have  more  than  such  things  as  these 
in  tliis  sacrament  are  in  danger  to  have  nothing  at  all,  as  they 
should  have.  While  they  think  that  Christ  is  received  corpo- 
rally by  them,  they  may  neglect  the  spiritual  eating ;  and 
while  they  chew  him  (as  it  were)  between  their  teeth,  their 
souls  may  feel  but  little  of  him.  For  just  as  it  is  with  those 
that  would  paint  a  beautiful  person ;  wliile  they  think  to 
add  something  of  their  own  to  the  face,  thereby  to  make  him 
look  better  than  he  is,  they  spoil  the  comeliness  of  the  picture, 
and  miss  both  of  his  face  and  likewise  of  his  true  beauty  °  :  so 
it  is  with  the  modern  church  of  Rome,  which  wotdd  make  reli- 
gion seem  as  fair  and  beautiful,  yea,  as  gaudy  and  trim  as 
their  fancies  can  devise ;  but  by  adding  their  own  inventions 
and  novel  fashions,  they  quite  spoil  both  true  religion  and  the 
beauty  of  it,  which  they  study  to  adorn.  Whilst  they  think 
to  offer  a  proper  sacrifice,  they  many  times  ofi"er  none  at  all. 
And  whilst  they  think  it  is  a  sacrifice  both  for  quick  and  dead, 
they  rely  so  much  upon  it  that  it  proves  to  be  for  neither. 
By  making  it  flesh  and  blood  and  bones,  they  make  Christ  the 
food  of  the  foulest  and  profanest  mouths ;  and  by  using  a 
multitude  of  ceremonies  they  are  in  danger  to  take  the  mind 
off  from  all  substantial  exercises. 

The  ancients,  I  am  sure,  understood  not  the  new  language 
of  the  transubstantiation  of  the  bread  and  wine  into  the  flesh 
and  blood  of  Christ.  And  though  they  would  suborn  those 
worthies  to  speak  against  their  mind  and  conscience  on  thou* 
side,  yet  we  find  that  they  call  the  bread  and  wine  figures  or 
sj'mbols  of  Christ's  body  and  blood.   Dionysius  the  Areopagite 

°  To  nav  eiBos  rrjs  ofiotQicreMi  8ia(j)6fipovcnv'  SxTTt  ujia  rt  rov  wapaSflyfiO' 
ros  rffiapTrjKevai,  Koi  Tov  KaWovt. — Eunap.  in  Vit.  Jainljl.  [p.  l8.] 
PATRK'K,  VOL.  I.  G 


82 


Tlte  Introduction. 


(or  that  ancient  writer  wlio  passeth  under  his  name)  calls  them 
most  frequently  "  symbols,  images,  antitypes,  sensible  tilings 
received  instead  of  things  intelUgible  p."  And  Maximus,  in  his 
Scholion'l  upon  him,  interpreting  what  a  symbol  is  in  his  lan- 
guage, saith  it  is,  kiaO-qrov  tl  avn  vor]Tov  ix(TdKaix(iav6yL€Vov, 
oXov  avTL  T^s  avXov  Koi  Oiias  rpocfyfis  kol  eixppoavvris,  apros  Koi 
olvos,  i.  e.  '  A  sensible  thing  which  we  partake  of  instead  of  a 
spiritual ;'  as  for  example,  '  Bread  and  wine  instead  of  the  im- 
material divine  nourishment  and  gladness.  And  so  Macarius 
calls  it,  avTLTVTTOv  TTjs  aapKOi  avTov  koX  tov  aifxaTos^,  '  the  figure 
and  representation  of  his  flesh  and  blood  ;'  and  saith,  that  '  he 
who  partakes  of  the  visible  bread  doth  spiritually  eat  the  flesh 
of  our  Lord.'  And  he  that  will  may  repair  to  Theodoret,  who 
lived  in  later  times,  and  he  shall  tell  liim  that  they  are  ixva-TiKo. 
(Tvn^oka^,  '  mystical  representations,'  and  that  their  nature  is 
not  changed,  no  more  than  the  flesh  of  Christ  ceases  to  be 
flesh,  now  that  it  is  in  the  heavens.  And  in  his  Comment  upon 
I  Cor.  xi.  26,  he  saith  the  apostle  uses  these  words,  till  he 
come,  because  there  will  be  no  need  of  symbols  of  his  body 
when  his  body  itself  shall  appear*. 

The  name  of  antiquity  makes  a  great  sound  in  their  mouths, 
and  therefore  let  the  reader  remember  that  there  are  many 
ancient  errors  as  well  as  truths.  If  they  have  followed  the 
ancients  in  their  novel  doctrines,  they  are  rather  the  old  here- 
tics than  the  fathers  of  the  church.  For  it  hath  been  well  ob- 
served by  some  of  our  divines,  that  Marcus,  a  magician,  is 
noted  by  Irenseus"  for  counterfeiting  to  consecrate,  in  an  Eu- 
charistical  manner,  cups  of  water  mixed  with  wine  to  a  strange 
purpose.  "  He  extended,"  saith  he,  "  the  words  of  invocation 
to  a  very  great  length,  and  then  he  made  the  liquor  in  the  cup 
seem  of  a  purple  or  bloody  colour."  His  followers  believed 
that  the  divine  grace  did  drop  down  some  of  its  own  blood 


V  2u/i/3oXa,  (iKovas,  avTiTvira,  al- 
O'driTa  TLva  avTi  voTjTwv  ixtToKafi^a- 
i>6fx€va.  [Eccles.  Hier.  cap.  3.  p. 
284  sqq.] 

1  In  cap.  3.  Eccles.  Hierarch. 
[yid.  ad  sensum,  p.  307.] 

Homil.  27.  [cap.  17.  apud  Gal- 
land.  Bibl.  Patr.  tom.vii.  p.  108.] 

s  Dialog.  2.  davyX'  [torn.  iv.  p. 


126.] 

OvK€Ti  XP*'"  T"''  (rvfifSoXav  tov 
aw/xaros,  avroii  (f>aivojj.(vov  tov  aa- 
fioTos.  [torn.  iii.  p.  238.] 

"  JJoTTjpia  o'lvw  KfKpapiva  npoa- 
noiovixevos  ev^^apiartiv,  k.  t.  X.  — 
Vide  Irenaeum,  ],  i.  c.  9.  [al.  13. 
p.  60.] 


The  Introduction. 


83 


into  the  cup  at  his  request.  And  all  that  were  present  were 
very  greedy  to  taste  of  this  cup,  that  the  same  grace  which  he 
called  down  might  shower  itself  upon  them  likewise.  I  can 
little  doubt  but  that  this  cup,  over  which  he  gave  thanks,  was 
a  counterfeit  of  that  which  the  sound  Christians  drunk  of,  from 
whom  these  men  were  apostatized.  And  that  he  might  gain 
greater  applause  by  his  followers,  he  would  make  them  believe 
that  he  was  more  devout  than  any,  and  could  give  them  more 
than  the  Christians  pretended  to  do,  even  the  very  blood  of 
Christ  itself,  which  the  Romanists  now  boast  they  have,  and 
therein  excel  us.  But  we  are  content  with  what  holy  men  then 
enjoyed,  and  let  them  take  heed  that  they  follow  not  worse 
examples.  I  am  sure  Theodoret,  in  his  second  Dialogue 
brings  in  a  wild  conceited  man,  speaking  the  same  things  that 
they  do.  The  affirmation  of  that  phantastic  is  tliis,  that 
"  Christ's  human  nature  is  swallowed  up  in  the  divine."  His 
argument  for  it  is  this :  As  the  elements  or  symbols,  or  the 
Lord's  body  and  blood,  are  one  thing  before  the  invocation  of 
the  priest,  but  after  invocation  are  changed  and  made  another ; 
so  the  Loi'd's  body,  after  his  ascension,  is  changed  into  a  divine 
substance,  though  before  it  was  not.  Hereupon  the  father 
saith,  "  You  are  caught  in  your  own  net,  for  the  symbols  do 
not  go  out  of  their  proper  nature,  but  remain  km  Trjs  irporepas 
ovtrias,  in  the  former  substance  wherein  they  were."  Let  the 
reader  then  judge  with  whom  they  speak,  and  who  are  the 
masters  of  our  language  and  assertions.  And  let  him  take 
heed  how  he  leaves  our  communion,  where  he  hath  the  holy 
bread  and  the  cup  both ;  whereas  they,  something  like  the 
Manichees  of  old,  will  not  let  the  people  drink  of  the  cup. 

But  let  them  believe  as  much  as  they  will,  so  they  will  but 
quietly  suffer  us  to  believe  as  we  see  cause.  Let  them  practise 
as  they  please,  if  it  will  do  them  any  good ;  we  doubt  not  but 
we  believe  and  practise  enough  to  the  receiving  of  as  great 
benefits  as  they  can  enjoy.  I  confess,  I  cannot  be  angry  with 
them  for  beheving  more  than  I  can  do ;  but  I  desire  they 
w^ould  not  be  angry  at  us  (but  rather  pity  us)  that  we  cannot 
extend  our  faith  so  far.  If  a  man  will  say  that  snow  is  nothing 
but  frozen  milk,  which  drops  from  the  skies,  much  good  may 

^  Cap.  24.  [tom.iv.  p.  126. ^ 
Ct  2 


84 


The  Introduction. 


it  do  him  with  his  conceit ;  only  let  him  not  impose  the  same 
belief  on  others  who  intend  not  to  trouble  him  for  his  fancy. 
And  if  they  will  believe  that  wine  is  the  very  blood  of  Christ, 
I  desire  not  that  they  should  suflfer  the  least  harm  from  tills 
opinion ;  but  let  them  not  damn  us  because  we  will  not  put  out 
our  eyes,  and  deny  our  taste,  and  abandon  our  reason  and  the 
Holy  Scripture  to  the  novel  fancies  and  interpretations  that 
they  obtrude  upon  us.  I  know  that  if  a  man's  soul  be  not 
made  of  solid  reason,  but  consists  of  weak  and  credulous  prin- 
ciples, they  will  fearfully  astonish  it  with  the  dismal  names  of 
heresy,  and  schism,  and  such  like  bugbear  words,  which  every 
one  applies  as  he  pleases.  But  considerate  souls  are  grown 
wiser  than  to  be  affrighted  out  of  their  wits  by  the  noise  of 
words  (the  great  engine  of  this  age),  and  they  know  that 
damnation  doth  not  depend  upon  men's  mouths,  for  if  it  did,  I 
know  not  who  should  go  to  heaven.  We  cannot  be  so  bhnd  as 
not  to  see  that  every  party  arrogates  to  itself  the  glorious 
names  of  Christ  and  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  if  we  would  be  led 
by  sounds,  we  must  believe  no  body  Imows  how  many  Christs. 
The  names  of  heretic,  schismatic,  yea,  and  of  antichrist  and 
Babylon  signify  but  Httle  to  us,  who  hear  them  every  day  so 
carelessly  applied  that  we  are  assured  men  know  not  what 
they  say.  Neither  will  we  be  amazed  with  sad  relations  of  the 
miserable  ends  of  those  who  have  contemned  their  sacraments, 
for  we  do  not  allow  that  any  man  should  irreverently  behave 
himself  towards  any  of  Christ's  institutions,  though  there  be 
something  of  man's  invention  mixed  with  it.  And  we  can  re- 
pay their  stories  of  the  contempt  of  this  sacrament  as  among 
them  administered,  with  as  sad  and  true  relations  concerning 
those  who  have  despised  that  which,  in  scorn  and  pride,  they 
are  pleased  to  call  Calvin's  supper  and  communion.  The  me- 
morable story  which  bishop  Morton  relates  7  may  quit  scores 
with  them  for  all  of  this  kind.  There  was  in  St.  John's  College 
in  Cambridge  (Dr.  Whitaker  being  then  master)  one  Booth,  a 
bachelor  of  arts,  and  an  excellent  scholar,  who,  in  the  time  of 
his  seducement  by  the  papists,  had  taken  the  sacramental 

y  ["  Of  the  institution  of  the  sa-    masse." — Book  v.  chap.  2.  §  6.  p. 
crainent  of  the  blessed  bodie  and    319.  fol.  Lond.  1635.] 
blood  of  Christ,  by  some  called  the 


The  Introduction. 


85 


bread  (which  he  received  because  he  would  not  be  discovered, 
but  yet  reserved  without  eating  of  it)  and  in  contempt  had 
thrown  it  over  a  wall.  By  the  remembrance  of  this  sin  after- 
ward, when  his  eyes  v/ere  opened,  he  was  di'iven  into  so  great 
remorse  and  anguish  of  soul,  that  not  long  after  he  threw  him- 
self down  headlong  over  the  battlements  of  the  chapel,  and 
within  four  and  twenty  hours  died,  whereof  there  were  many 
witnesses.  Yea,  this  right  reverend  person  saitli  in  another 
book  that  he  saw  this  thing,  which  now  from  him  I  have  re- 
lated. And  it  may  put  some  in  mind  of  what  befel  the  Dona- 
tists,  who,  casting  of  it  to  dogs,  they  grew  mad,  and  tare  then* 
own  masters  in  pieces  as  unknown  persons. 

But  if  they  vnW  persist  to  damn  all  those  that  are  not  of 
their  way,  we  will  say  to  them  as  Diogenes  did  to  an  heathen- 
ish priest  that  would  persuade  him  to  be  of  his  order,  that  so 
he  might  be  happy  in  the  other  world :  "  Wouldst  thou  have 
me  beheve  that  Epaminondas  and  other  brave  men  were  miser- 
able, and  thou,  who  art  but  an  ass,  and  dost  notliing  worthy, 
shall  be  happy  because  thou  art  a  priest^?"  Is  it  credible 
that  they  who  exercise  all  piety  towards  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  and  are  ready  to  sacrifice  their  lives  rather  than 
to  consent  to  the  least  sin  against  them,  shall  be  miserable,  and 
that  God  will  accept  men  merely  for  being  of  their  commu- 
nion ?  We  know  upon  what  easy  terms  men  may  go  to  heaven 
as  they  beheve ;  and  they  shall  never  persuade  us  that  they 
whose  hearts  are  full  of  God,  and  have  his  image  shining  fairly 
in  their  souls,  shall  be  the  companions  of  the  devils  and  ac- 
cursed spu'its,  when  (as  they  imagine)  men  of  foul  lives  may 
get  possession  of  Paradise  and  live  with  saints. 

And  yet  let  all  Protestants  take  heed  how  they  do  irreve- 
rently behave  themselves  in  participation  of  these  holy  myste- 
ries, lest  wc  give  them  occasion  to  say  that  we  have  nothing 
but  common  bread  and  wine,  empty  of  all  sacrament.  Let  us 
as  humbly  and  meekly  address  ourselves  to  the  table  of  the 
Lord  as  they  can  do  who  believe  the  very  substance  of  Christ's 
body  and  blood  is  there.  And  indeed  it  is  but  natural  to  ap- 
proach with  a  great  deal  of  reverence  and  devotion,  unless  we 
be  of  a  make  different  from  other  men,  who  use  to  be  affected 


2  [Apud  Diog.  Laert.  cap.  39.] 


86 


Tlie  Introduction. 


witli  everything  that  doth  but  relate  unto  tliat  which  is  dear 
unto  them.  The  man  in  Achilles  Tatius^,  who  found  a  treasure 
in  the  ground,  tov  tottov  ttiv  evpija-em  irCurjaev,  ^uijiov  rjydpev, 
&c.,  '  He  did  honour  to  the  place  where  it  Avas  found  ;  he  built 
an  altar,  he  offered  sacrifice,  he  crowned  that  piece  of  earth.' 
Such  a  passion  of  love  it  was  (I  believe)  that  made  the  ancient 
Christians  do  honour  to  the  very  day  of  our  Saviour's  suffer- 
ings, to  use  the  sign  of  the  ci'oss  on  which  he  suffered,  to  look 
towards  the  place  where  he  was  crucified  and  buried ;  and 
much  more  should  it  make  us  highly  to  value  the  signs  of  his 
body  and  blood,  and  in  a  serious  reverent  manner  receive  them 
as. the  sweetest  tokens  of  his  love. 

VII.  I  have  said  the  more  of  this  here  because  I  shall  not 
fill  the  ensuing  treatise  with  any  disputes  :  and  because  I  in- 
tended it  should  be  a  practical  discourse,  I  have  waved  the 
(Controversy  concerning  the  persons  who  ai'e  fit  for  to  receive. 
Let  it  be  sufficient  here  to  say  with  Justin  Martyr'', ''Hy  ovbevl 
aWu>  fj.€Ta<T\€ti>  €$6v  kdTLv,  J]  T<5  77tcrrevofri  a\r]6Tj  (tvai  ra  bebi- 
bayixeva  vcf)"  rjix&v,  Kal  \ov(Taixev<f  to  vnep  a(f)€(T€Oi>s  ajuapnwi;  Koi 
els  avayivvqaiv  Xovrpbv,  koi  ovto)s  jiiovvTi  6  \pi<nos  irape- 
6a)(c€,  i.  e.  '  We  suffer  none  to  partake  of  it  but  him  who  be- 
lieves the  things  that  we  teach  to  be  true,  and  that  is  washed 
in  baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins  and  regenei'ation,  and  that 
Uves  so  as  Christ  hath  delivered  unto  us.'  He  therefore  that 
is  baptized  and  instructed  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  professes 
to  live  accordingly,  and  doth  nothing  that  is  destructive  to  this 
profession,  ought  not  to  be  rejected  from  our  communion. 
But  as  of  the  passover,  a  stranger,  or  an  uncircumcised  person, 
though  an  Israelite,  might  not  eat ;  so  neither  may  an  unbap- 
tized  person,  or  one  that  doth  not  profess  om*  religion,  partake 
of  this  supper.  And  as  they  were  to  cast  out  then  all  unlea- 
vened bread,  so  are  we  to  keep  the  feast  perpetually,  and  to 
purge  ourselves  of  the  old  leaven,  that  we  may  become  a  new 
lump. 

And,  that  we  may  be  well  instructed  in  our  duty,  I  have 
shown  in  the  following  treatise. 

First,  what  is  the  end  of  this  holy  action  ; 

Secondly,  with  what  preparations  we  must  approach  to  the 
performance  of  it ;  and. 

»  Lib.  5.  ipoT.  [cap.  26.]  Apolog.  ii.  [al.  i.  §  66.  p.  83  A.] 


The  Introduction. 


87 


Thirdly,  what  affections  will  best  become  us  when  we  are 
performing  it. 

Fourthly,  how  we  should  behave  ourselves  afterward  ;  and, 

Lastly,  what  benefits  we  shall  reap  thereby. 

And,  because  I  know  the  great  quarrels  are  about  the  lives 
of  men  (which  is  the  last  thing  in  Justin's  words),  I  have  said 
something  in  the  end  of  the  discourse  which  may  tend  to  the 
satisfying  of  us  who  are  those  vricked  persons  that  are  to  be 
excluded. 

VIII.    If  in  the  first  part  of  this  treatise  I  have  inter- 
spersed a  little  of  the  heathen  learning,  and  endeavoured  some- 
times to  illustrate  things  out  of  their  customs,  it  need  not  seem 
a  wonder  to  any  considering  person  :  and  let  me  make  a  brief 
apology  for  it,  and  so  put  an  end  to  this  Preface.    I  can  very 
easily  demonstrate  that  no  small  part  of  the  heathenish  mytho- 
logy and  divinity  was  fetched  from  the  Hebrew  stories  and 
practices.    As  the  Greek  poet^  saith  of  the  Cretians,  that 
"  they  were  always  liars  ;"  so  I  may  say  of  the  Greeks  them- 
selvesd,  that  "  they  were  always  thieves."    Though  they  brag- 
ged that  all  learning  came  from  them,  yet  in  truth  they  were 
but  hke  the  crow,  as  Tatianus^  his  expression  of  them  is,  ovk 
ihCois  eTTiKoa-fjLovixivoi  TTTepoLs,  '  not  adorned  with  their  own  fea- 
thers,' but  with  those  they  had  stolen  from  their  neighbours. 
That  worthy  author  hath  well  observed  (toward  the  latter 
end  of  his  oration  against  the  Greeks')  that  they  drew  their 
dogmata  or  assertions  (though  unskilfully)  from  the  fountain  of 
holy  writings  ;  and  having  busy  and  inquisitive  minds,  whatso- 
ever they  found  in  Moses  or  other  divine  philosophers,  they 
endeavoured  irapaxapaTTeiv,  '  to  set  another  stamp  upon  it,' 
and  make  it  pass  for  their  own.    And  this  they  did  for  two 
reasons,  as  he  saith, — first,  that  they  might  seem  to  others  to 
have  brought  forth  some  new  thing  that  was  not  known  be- 
fore ;  and,  secondly,  that  what  they  did  not  understand  of  the 
truth  they  might  cause  by  their  artifice  of  words  to  pass  for 
fables  in  the  world.    And  it  is  very  considerable,  methinks, 
that  Marinusg  reports  of  Proclus,  though  a  philosopher  of 

[Tit.  i.  12.]  e  [Oral,  ad  Graec.  §  26.  ad  calc. 

Vid.   Euseb.   Prsep.    Evang.  Justin,  p.  265  D.] 

lib.  X.  [pp.  462,  3.]  et  Clem.  Alex.  f  [§  40.  p.  274  E.] 

Strom,  lib.  i.  [cap,  17.  p.  369.]  e  Marinus  in  vita  Procli.  [cap.19.] 


88 


The  Introduction. 


younger  times,  how  that  he  observed  tlie  Roman,  the  Phry- 
gian, and  the  Egyptian  feasts  with  all  new  moons,  and  that 
XafjLTTpm  Koi  UpoTTpeiras,  '  ill  a  most  splendid  and  ceremonious 
manner.'  And,  in  brief,  he  saiths  that  he  kept  religiously  the 
most  ftxmous  feasts  of  every  nation,  after  their  own  manner 
and  custom ;  and  composed  an  liynm,  which  he  sung,  contain- 
ing the  praises  of  the  gods  of  several  nations.  For  he  had  this 
saying  frequently  in  his  mouth,  that  "  a  philosopher  ought  not 
to  addi"ess  his  service  to  the  fashion  of  one  city,  or  some  coun- 
try's rites,  but  to  be  tov  oKov  Koaixov  Upocpavrriv,  skilled  in  the 
sacra  or  holy  offices  of  the  whole  world."  And  it  is  very  hkely 
that  this  was  the  principle  of  several  philosophers  before  him, 
it  being  a  character  that  Pausanias  gives  of  the  Greeks  in 
general,  that  they  were  beivoi  ra  vnepopia  iv  OavpLart  rtdfo-dai 
IxfL^ovL,  T]  TO.  otKeta^i,  '  strangely  prone  to  have  the  things  of  an- 
other country  in  greater  admiration  than  those  of  their  own.' 
Which  agrees  very  well  with  what  the  Scripture  saith  of  them, 
that  the  Athenians  were  always  hearing  or  tellbig  some  new 
thing^,  and  that  even  in  matters  of  their  religion  they  were 
hei(Tihaiiiove(TTepoL,  very  apt  to  reverence  every  deity  that  they 
heard  of.  Hence  it  was  that  they  worshipped  the  unknown 
God,  which  St.  Paul  tells  them  was  the  ti'ue  and  hving  God 
wliicli  made  all  things.  This  God  was  worshipped  among  the 
Jews ;  and,  as  NazianzenJ  saith,  that  when  they  speak  of  the 
Elysian  fields,  they  were  kv  (pavraa-La  tov  kuO'  fip.as  irapabelaov, 
'  in  a  conceit  of  our  Paratlise,'  wliicli  they  took  out  of  Moses's 
books,  with  the  change  of  the  name  only  ;  so,  I  may  say,  that 
Avhen  they  invented  the  rest  of  their  poetical  divinity,  their 
dreams  were  the  olFspring  of  some  real  things  which  they  had 
seen  or  heard  out  of  the  book  of  God.  I  will  instance  but  in 
four  which  are  not  commonly  observed,  so  far  as  I  have  read. 
Hercules  is  called  by  the  dark  poet'',  rpiea-Trepos  Ae'wy,  '  the 
three  nights  lion,  whom  the  sharp-toothed  dog  of  Neptune 
swallowed  up  within  his  jaws.'  This  dog  of  Neptune,  the  sea 
god,  saith  Isaac  Tzetzes',  is  the  whale,  and  Hercules  hath  the 

'I'as  TTapa  ttcktlv,  a)y  eiTTfiK,  im-         '  Acts  xvii.  21. 
(Trjixnvs  (Ojnas,  Kara  to.  irup  (kc'icttois        j  Orat.  20.   [al.  43.  §  23.  torn.  i. 
narpia  bpoyv  €vd(a-fios  BicTtXfVf.  —     ]).  "89  C] 

^  Lycoi)hion.  [Cassandr.  33.] 
h  In  Boeot.  [lib.  ix.  cap.  36.  §  5.]       '  [In  loc.  p.  20.] 


The  Introduction. 


89 


epithet  of  '  three  nights,'  because,  being  swallowed,  he  lay 
three  days  iv  t<3  k^tci,  '  in  the  whale,'  which  he  calls  nights, 
because  the  belly  of  the  fish  was  d^wrtoros  kol  aKoreivos, 
'  without  all  hght,  and  black  as  the  night.'  This  seems  to  me 
to  be  but  a  corruption  of  the  story  of  Jonah,  which  might  well 
be  known  to  the  heathens,  and  easily  applied  to  Hercules. 
For  it  is  observed  by  D.  Kimchi'",  that  there  is  not  so  much 
as  the  name  of  Israel  in  all  the  prophecy  of  Jonah,  because  he 
was  sent  only  to  heathens.  And  he  was  embarked  in  a  vessel 
going  to  Tarsliish,  or  Tartessus  in  Spain,  as  Bochartus^  hath 
proved,  in  which  pai't  of  the  world  it  is  well  know  the  Tyrian 
Hercules  was  most  worshipped.  Now  it  hath  been  the  manner 
of  the  world  to  attribute  all  strange  things  that  were  done  by 
others  to  some  one  person  famous  among  them  ;  as  all  witty 
stories  and  jests  are  at  this  day  fathered  upon  him  that  is  most 
noted  by  us  to  abound  with  them  ;  and  so  they  might  easily 
tell  the  story  of  their  Hercules  when  it  was  once  noised  among 
them,  because  they  ascribed  all  wonders  and  miracles  to  hmi. 

A  second  instance  I  may  give  in  the  fables  of  Iphigenia  and 
Julia  Luperca.  The  former  of  which  being  to  be  sacrificed  to 
Diana,  an  hare,  or  as  some  say  an  heifer,  came  running  in  the 
middle  (and  thickets  as  it  were)  of  the  Greek  army,  which  by  the 
counsel  of  their  prophet  they  offered  instead  of  her.  The  latter 
having  the  knife  just  at  her  throat  (as  it  was  at  Isaac's)  an  eagle 
came  and  apiru^ei  to  fic/)os,  'snatcheth  away  the  knife'  out  of  the 
priest's  hands,  and  threw  a  young  panther  near  to  the  altar, 
which  they  offered  for  her.  These  two  stories  are  but  a  depra- 
vation of  two  in  the  Scripture  concerning  Isaac  and  Jephtha's 
daughter,  which  they  have  jumbled  together.  And  therefore  the 
same  Isaac  Tzetzes",  in  his  Scholia  upon  Lycophron,  adds  these 
words  to  these  stories :  "  You  cannot  but  remember  tov  avn 
"'la-aa.K  Kpiov  iv  <f>vT<f  2a/3€/c  hih^ixivov,  '  the  ram  which  instead 
of  Isaac  was  caught  in  the  bush  Sabek,'"  (so  the  LXX  read 
those  words,  22  and  13,)  as  1  think  I  should  have  done  if  he 
had  not  noted  it  to  my  hand. 

But  those  verses  of  Homer,  on  which  Porphyry  writes  his 
book  -nepi  avrpov  Nf/xc/jwi;,  are  as  like  to  David's  words  in 
Psal.  cxxxix.  15.  as  any  thing  can  be,  if  we  receive  Porphyry's 

"1  [In  Jona  Illustrato,  &c.  per       "  [Geogr.  Sacr.  lib.  i.  cap.  34. 
J.  Leusdcu,  p,  15.  8vo.  Traj.  ad    col.  606.] 
Rhen.  1656.]  "  [In  Cassandr.  183.  p.  72.] 


90 


The  Introduction. 


comment  upon  them.  And  according  to  Tatianus's  computa- 
tion Homer  lived  not  long  after  his  time,  and  so  might  have 
some  knowledge  of  his  songs.  David's  words  are,  /  am  fear- 
fully and  wonderfulli/  made,  &c.  and  curiously  wrovght  in 
the  loivest  part  of  the  earth.  Where  the  word  (which 
we  render  curiously  ivrought)  is  by  Val.  Schindler  interpreted 
contextus  sum,  '  I  am  weaved ;'  and  the  verb  doth  signify  acu- 
pingere,  &c.  '  to  work  curiously  with  a  needle,'  or  otherwise. 
The  words  of  Homer,  which  I  say  do  answer  to  these,  and  de- 
scribe the  body  of  man  as  wrought  in  a  loom  and  rarely 
weaved,  are  in  liis  story  of  Ulysses  p,  where  he  speaks  of  a  cave, 
and  saith, 

'Ei/  S'  icTToi  \ideoi  itepifiifKeft,  ev6a  Tt  Nv/iK^at 
<f)dpea  v<palpov(riv  aKi7z6p<^vpa,  Bavfia  IdtaOai. 

There  do  the  nymphs,  a  wonder  'tis  to  see. 
Their  purple  garments  weave  most  curiously; 
From  off  long  stones  their  threads  are  drawn. 

As  David  saith  that  he  was  wrought  in  the  lowest  j)<^'>'ts  of 
the  earth,  i.  e.  the  womb ;  so  he  here  speaks  of  an  antrum  or 
'  cave '  in  which  the  nymphs  or  souls  making  bodies  tUd  reside. 
The  instruments  or  tools  from  whence  they  drew  their  yarn, 
which  he  calls  '  great  long  stones,'  Porphyry  q  interprets  to  sig- 
nify the  bones  of  the  body,  which  are  hard  like  mito  stones, 
which  uphold  the  flesh,  and  unto  which  it  is  fastened;  and 
these  purple  coloured  garments  are  (saith  he)  r]  alfxarav 
i^vcfjaivofjiivr]  (Tap$,  '  the  flesh  which  is  weaved  or  wrought  out 
of  blood,'  wliich  is,  as  it  were,  the  coat  wherewith  the  soul 
clothes  itself.  To  this  answers  that  in  David,  that  he  was  cu- 
riously wrought  or  weaved  in  the  womb.  And  then  Qavy-a 
IhidOaL  is  expressly  the  same  with  those  words  of  David,  I  am 
fearfxdly  and  wonderfully  made,  and  marvellous  are  thy 
works.  And  it  is  a  wonder,  saith  the  same  Porphyry,  whether 
we  look  upo'i  Ti]v  (Tva-Taa-iv,  at  the  rare  'fabric  and  composition' 
of  the  body,  or  irpbs  ttjv  tnivheaiv  rovTio  rrj^  ■^)^ris,  or  'at  the  no 
less  strange  conjunction  of  it  with  the  soul.' 

Neither  is  this  the  single  conceit  of  Porphyry,  but  he  that 
will  read  Joh.  Protospatharius  f  upon  that  verse  of  Hesiod's, 

T^  S'  loToi'  (TTTjaaiTo  yvvr),  npo^aXoiTo  re  tpyov, 

Avill  soon  see  that  he  also  thought  Homer  to  have  described  in 

P  Odyss.  v.  [107.]  1  Ilfpt  vvp.<pa>v  avrp.  [p.  259.] 

^  In  his  fjixepas.  [vers.  772.] 


Introduction. 


91 


those  woi'ds  the  contexture  and  formation  of  our  bodies  in  the 
womb.  For  he  saith^,  by  the  web  he  advises  the  woman  to 
weave  on  the  twelfth  day  of  the  moon,  is  meant  a  pliysical 
mystery  concerning  the  generation  of  our  bodies,  which  he 
tliere  explains ;  and  for  a  proof  of  what  he  saith,  he  directs  us 
plainly  to  this  place  of  Homer,  which  I  have  recited.  But  I 
have  no  list  to  prosecute  this  any  further. 

There  is  another  instance  that  suggests  itself  to  my  thoughts, 
and  I  should  have  taken  it  for  a  corruption  of  the  story  of 
Elias  calling  for  fire  from  heaven  to  consume  his  sacrifice,  had 
not  Pausanias  assured  us  that  he  saw  it  with  his  own  eyes. 
But  it  will  clearly  show  how  studious  those  false  gods  were  to 
imitate  the  God  of  Israel,  and  render  what  I  have  said  very 
probable,  which  makes  me  think  it  fitting  to  be  here  related. 
Some  priests,  he  saith*,  in  Lydia,  Avho  worshipped  after  the 
Persian  manner,  used  to  call  upon  he  knew  not  what  God,  in  a 
barbarous  form  of  woi-ds  not  to  be  understood  by  the  Greeks ; 
and  presently  the  wood  that  was  upon  the  altai'  was  kindled 
without  any  fire,  and  appeared  all  in  a  bright  flame.  I  could 
easily  show  that  these  barbarous  words  were  Abraham,  Isaac 
and  Jacob,  Sebaoth  and  such  like,  and  in  all  probability  the 
God  they  invoked  was  the  unknown  God,  and  the  example 
they  apishly  followed  was  that  great  prophet. 

And  indeed  the  prophet  Elijah  did  therefore  call  for  fire  from 
heaven,  because  all  sacrifices  at  Jerusalem  were  consumed  and 
eaten  only  by  the  holy  fire  which  God  sent  from  above  to 
them.  The  devil  therefore  in  this  thing  may  have  seemed  to 
endeavour  that  his  offerings  might  sometimes  correspond  with 
those  of  the  temple  of  God.  And  so  Pindar  gives  us  another 
instance,  how  that  the  llhodians  being  about  to  offer  sacrifice 
to  Jupiter,  had  forgotten  to  bring  fire  along  with  them  to  his 
altars,  but  he  being  loth  it  seems  to  lose  this  fat  oblation, 

Savdav  ayaymv  V((^i\av 

'  did  bring  a  yellow  cloud  over  them,  and  rained  much  gold ' 
upon  the  altar.  This  '  golden  shower,'  as  an  excellent  person  of 


''Ai/fu  hi  h!]  TTvpos  avdyKT)  naaa 


€^  airwv  eKXdp\j/ai. — Pausan.  Eliac. 
prior  seu  lib.  v.  [cap.  27.  §  5.] 
"  [Olymp.  vii.  90.] 


92 


The  Introduction. 


our  own "  doth  interpret  it,  was  nothing  else  but  a  '  shower  of 
fire,'  which  devoured  the  sacrifice  in  imitation  of  the  sacred 
story.  No  wonder  then  if  in  otlier  things  as  well  as  these 
they  were  forward  to  transcribe  the  Holy  Writ ;  and  let  it  not 
be  imputed  to  a  vain  and  affected  ostentation  of  learning,  if  I 
sometimes  use  their  customs  for  an  illustration  of  sacred 
matters. 

But  the  following  discourse  is  interlaced  with  so  few  of  their 

authors,  that  perhaps  it  doth  not  merit  this  apology,  and  there- 
fore I  will  cease  it  with  this  double  desire : — the  one  is  to  my 
reader,  that  if  he  understand  not  every  line  in  the  first  part, 
yet  he  would  not  throw  away  the  rest,  wliich  are  fitted  to  his 
practice ;  the  other  is  to  God,  that  he  would  bless  it  to  those 
ends  for  which  it  is  designed.  Amen. 

^  Dr.  Cudworlh.  ["A  discourse  concerning  the  true  notion  of  the  Lord's 
supper,"  chap,  6.  p.  91.  8vo.  Lond.  1670.] 


MENSA 


MYSTICA. 


SECT.  I. 


THE  INTRODUCTION. 

The  sacraments  being  not  unfitly  called  by  an  ancient  writei* 
'the  gai'ments  that  are  cast  about  our  Saviour*,'  and  it  being 
the  profession  of  divines  to  labour  to  see  the  naked  face  of 
truth,  it  is  most  worthy  our  pains  to  open  and  reveal  those 
secrets  that  lie  hid  and  veiled  under  symbols  and  sensible 
things. 

And  to  say  the  truth,  these  vestments  are  so  thin  and  trans- 
parent, that  the  truth  doth  shine  through  them,  and  shew  itself 
to  well-prepared  minds.  They  are  but  hke  to  those  thin 
clouds  wherein  the  sun  is  sometimes  wi'apped,  which  render  its 
body  the  more  visible  to  our  weak  and  trerabhng  eyes. 

I  cannot  pretend  to  have  conversed  much  with  barefaced 
truth,  yet  having  been  drawn  to  publish  a  few  thoughts  con- 
cerning baptism,  I  shall  now  further  endeavour  to  unfold  those 
mysteries  that  lie  hid  under  the  coverings  of  bread  broken  and 
wine  poured  out  in  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper,  that 
men  may  not  (Ixiou-likc)  embrace  a  mere  cloud  instead  of  God 
himself. 

My  sight  is  not  so  sliarp  as  to  chscern  the  very  flesh  and 
blood  of  Christ  in  those  forms  and  shapes  of  bread  and  wine ; 
no  more  could  that  eagle-eyed  author  I  mentioned,  though  he 
thought  he  could  see  as  far  as  the  celestial  hierarchy,  which 
will  appear  to  any  one  that  shall  be  at  the  pains  to  read  him. 
Yet  I  am  so  far  from  thinking  that  they  are  mere  signs  of  what 
Christ  did  for  us,  or  only  representations  of  the  benefits  we 

*  Ta  Tr€ piKtifjieva.  aoi  avfi^oKiKtos  afj.(j)ti(TixaTa,  Dionys.  cap.  3.  Eccles. 
Hierarch.  [§  2.  p.  286.] 


94 


Mensa  Mystica :  or. 


receive  by  him,  that  I  am  persuaded  tliey  exhibit  our  Lord 
himself  unto  beheAing  minds,  and  put  tliem  into  a  surer  pos- 
session of  him. 

The  truth  commonly  lies  between  two  extremes,  and  being  a 
peaceable  thing,  cannot  join  itself  with  either  of  the  dii'ectly 
opposite  parties.  And  therefore  I  shall  seek  for  her  in  a  middle 
path,  not  bidding  such  a  defiance  to  the  'corporeal'  presence, 
as  to  deny  the  '  real ;'  nor  so  subverting  the  fancy  of  a  miracu- 
lous change  into  a  celestial  '  substance,'  as  to  level  these  things 
into  mere  '  shadows.' 

A  SHORT  PRATER. 
And  vouchsafe,  O  Lord,  to  every  one  that  peruse  this  book,  the 
illumination  of  thv  holy  Spirit,  to  understand  those  things  which  are 
faithfully  declared  therein,  according  to  thy  mind  and  will :  and 
work  in  all  their  hearts  most  devout  affections  to  our  biessedSaviour, 
and  to  that  commemoration  of  his  sacrifice,  which  he  hath  ordained, 
for  our  increase  in  faith,  and  love,  and  holy  obedience.  Amen. 


CHAP.  L 

The  first  end  of  this  holy  feast  ivas  for  a  remembrance  of 
Christ.    What  it  is  to  remember  him.    The  Passover  ap- 
pointed for  a  memorial.    Two  things  which  in  this  feast 
tve  commemorate.    And  our  commemoration  is  made  two 
ways:  to  men  and  to  God.    From  tvhence  we  may  infer 
two  senses,  in  which  it  may  be  called  a  sacrifice. 
First  then,  this  holy  rite  of  eating  bread  broken,  and 
drinking  wine  poured  out,  is  a  solemn  commemoration  of 
Clirist^,  according  as  he  himself  saith  to  all  his  apostles,  and 
particularly  to  St.  Paul,  who  twice  makes  mention  of  this  com- 
mand. Do  this  in  remembrance  (or  for  a  remembrance)  ofme^. 
His  meaning  is,  not  that  we  should  hereby  call  him  to  mind 
(for  we  are  never  to  forget  him),  but  rather  that  we  should 
keep  him  in  mind,  and  endeavour  to  perpetuate  his  name  in 
the  woi'ld,  and  propagate  the  memory  of  him  and  his  benefits 
to  the  latest  posterity.    Now  this  is  done  by  making  a  solemn 
rehearsal  of  his  famous  acts,  and  declaring  the  inestimable 
greatness  of  his  royal  love.    For  dra/xi'Tjtrts  doth  not  signify 


*  Luke  xxii.  19. 


I  Cor.  xi.  24,  25. 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


95 


barely  recordatio,  '  recording'  or  registering  of  liis  favours  in 
our  mind ;  but  commemoratio,  '  a  solemn  declaration,'  that  we 
do  well  bear  them  in  our  hearts,  and  will  continue  the  memory 
and  spread  the  fame  of  him  as  far  and  as  long  as  ever  we  are 
able. 

I  hope  that  none  will  conceive  so  little  to  be  meant  by  this 
word,  'remember'  or  'commemorate,'  as  a  naked  mention  of 
his  name  with  our  mouths,  or  a  dead  image  of  him  in  our 
minds.  For  all  these  words,  to  '  know,'  '  believe,'  '  meditate,' 
'  remember,'  and  the  like,  are  hearty  words  and  full  of  life. 
Though  they  seem  to  speak  only  actions  of  the  mind,  yet  in 
holy  language  they  include  in  their  comprehension  the  af- 
fections of  the  heart.  Cold  pale  thoughts,  which  have  no  feel- 
ing of  themselves,  nor  leave  any  footsteps  or  memorials  behind 
them,  are  as  good  as  none  at  all.  And  therefore  I  understand 
hereby  a  very  warm  sense  in  the  soul,  which  begets  and  stirs 
up  such  motions  in  the  heart  as  the  conceived  object  is  apt  to 
raise. 

Suppose  you  have  been  in  deep  love  with  any  person,  and 
have  lost  the  half  of  yourselves  ;  when  you  remember  the 
death  of  that  friend,  the  image  of  him  is  ready  to  rob  you  of 
your  lives,  and  make  all  the  blood  retire  to  your  heart,  as  if 
death  were  about  to  sui-prise  the  main  fort  of  life.  But  on  the 
contrary,  if  you  think  of  that  person  as  alive,  the  remem- 
brance of  him  makes  your  spirits  dance,  and  the  blood  to  run 
into  your  cheeks,  and  smiles  to  sit  on  your  forehead,  and 
breeds  a  pleasance  in  your  whole  man.  Just  so  would  our  Sa- 
viour be  remembered  by  you,  that  the  thoughts  of  him  may 
even  kill  you  with  grief,  and  transport  you  with  love,  and  cap- 
tivate your  wills,  and  engage  all  your  affections,  that  they  may 
be  at  his  command,  and  issued  forth  at  his  pleasure.  As  you 
think  of  a  friend,  of  a  father,  of  a  wife  or  a  husband,  or  any 
one  that  hath  got  the  possession  of  your  heart,  so  think  of 
him. 

By  which  examples  you  may  see,  that  I  intend  not  a  natural 
passion,  and  a  sensual  commotion  in  the  soul,  but  a  well- 
grounded  affection. 

When  we  read  a  true  history,  or  a  romance,  we  are  apt  to 
side  with  some  persons  in  the  story  ;  and  when  we  meet  with  a 
duel,  we  favour  one  of  the  combatants,  and  are  sensible  of  his 


96 


Mensa  Mystica :  or. 


wounds,  and  sorry  for  his  fall,  a-^  on  the  contrary  we  are  glad 
he  comes  off  a  conqueror  and  wins  the  field.  So  may  a  man 
when  he  thinks  of  Christ  and  his  tragedy,  conceive  a  natural 
hatred  and  indignation  at  the  treachery  of  Juda,s,  and  the  ^^le 
mahce  of  the  Pharisees,  and  be  much  moved  to  see  him  used  in 
such  an  unworthy  manner ;  it  may  be  fetch  sighs  from  his 
heart,  and  tears  from  his  eyes,  and  put  him  into  such  a  huge 
passion  as  if  he  suffered  with  him.  But  if  all  this  have  no 
effect  in  his  hfe,  and  produce  no  answerable  fi'uits  afterward,  it 
is  no  more  than  a  natm'al  motion,  and  is  void  of  the  divine  and 
heavenly  Spirit. 

We  must  remember  Christ  therefore,  as  Nehemiah  desires 
God  to  remember  him^,  by  doing  good;  or  as  we  remember  our 
Creator,  by  a  true  subjection  of  all  our  faculties  to  liis  sovereign 
will. 

Then  we  remember  him  as  we  ought,  when  we  get  him 
formed  in  our  hearts,  and  have  a  more  living  image  of  him  left 
in  our  minds ;  when  it  stirs  and  is  busy  in  our  souls,  and 
awakens  all  other  images,  and  calls  up  all  divine  truths  that  are 
within  us.  to  send  them  forth  upon  their  several  employments 
into  oiu"  hves. 

Now  for  the  fuller  imderstandinof  of  this  matter,  vou  must 
know  that  the  paschal  supper  (which  is  called  by  Greg.  Naz.*" 
ver}'  elegantly,  Hmos  tvtsov  a/iybpoTepos,  '  a  more  obscm*e  type 
of  tliis  type')  was  instituted  for  a  remembrance,  and  was  a  feast 
of  commemoration,  as  will  soon  appeal*  if  you  look  but  a  while 
into  the  particulars  of  it.  And  first  you  must  observe  that  the 
very  day  of  the  Passover  was  'j'i"^3t^'  '  for  a  memorial'  of  then' 
miraculous  dehverance  out  of  Egypt,  as  you  may  read,  Exod. 
xii.  14,  and  therefore  they  are  bid  to  remember  this  day,  in 
which  they  came  out  of  Egypt,  out  of  the  house  of  bond- 
age, &c.<=  Thence  it  was  that  they  were  commanded  to  eat  the 
lamb  with  bitter  herbs  ^  for  a  remembrance  of  their  hard 
bondage  in  Egypt,  which  made  then'  lives  bitter  unto  them*. 
So  was  the  unleavened  bread,  the  bread  of  affliction,  in  remem- 
brance that  they  brought  their  bread  out  of  Egypt  unleavened  f, 
and  were  there  in  great  servitudes,  so  that  their  soul  was  even 


^  [Orat.xlv.  §23.  tom.i.p.863B.] 
*  [Nehera.  i.  6,  i  r ;  xiii.  14,  22.] 
Exod.  xiii.  3. 


•J  Exod.  xii.  8.  ^  jb.  i.  14. 

f  lb.  xii.  34. 
s  lb.  xiii.  3. 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


97 


dried  and  parched  in  them.  The  later  Jews  have  added  the 
charoseth,  which  is  a  thick  sauce,  in  memory  of  the  clay  and 
mortar  which  they  wrought  in ;  and  they  used  red  wine  for  a 
remembrance  that  Pharaoh  shed  the  blood  of  their  children. 
To  which  may  be  added,  that  God  required  there  should  be  a 
rehearsal  to  their  children  of  what  the  Lord  had  done  for  them, 
that  so  this  feast  might  be  for  a  sign  upon  their  hand,  and  foi- 
a  memorial  between  their  eyes  to  all  posterity,  as  you  may  see 
Exod.  xiii.  8,  9.  And  thence  it  is  that  the  Jews  call  that  section 
of  the  law,  or  the  lesson  which  they  read  that  night,  the  Hag- 
gadah,  '  annunciation '  or  '  shewing  forth,'  because  they  com- 
memorated and  predicated  both  their  hard  services,  and  God's 
wonderful  salvation,  and  the  praises  that  were  due  to  him  for 
so  great  a  mercy. 

It  is  easy  now  to  apply  all  this  to  our  present  purpose,  if  we 
do  but  consider  that  this  likewise  is  a  holy  feast.  Whence  it  is 
called  the  Lord's  supper^  (not  only  because  he  appointed  it, 
but  because  he  was  the  end  of  its  celebration),  and  an  enter- 
tainment at  the  table  of  the  LordK 

This  feast  our  Saviour  first  keeping  with  his  apostles,  who 
were  Jews,  he  makes  part  of  the  Passover-cheer  to  be  the  pro- 
vision of  it.  For  he  takes  the  bread  and  wine,  which  used  to 
go  about  in  that  supper  through  the  whole  family,  to  signify 
his  broken  body,  and  his  blood  which  was  to  be  shed.  Now 
this  was  to  be  in  commemoration  of  a  deliverance  wrought  by 
him,  from  a  greater  tyranny  than  the  Israelites  were  under, 
which  made  all  the  world  groan,  and  was  ready  to  thrust  us  all 
below  into  the  devil's  fiery  furnace.  And  therefore,  as  it  is 
said,  Exod.  xiii.  8,  Thou  shalt  shew  thy  son  in  that  day,  say- 
ing. This  is  done,  &c. ;  so  the  apostle,  in  a  manifest  allusion  to 
that  phrase,  saith,  that  wlien  we  eat  this  bread,  and  drink 
this  cup,  we  do  sheiv  forth  the  Lord's  death  until  he  corne^. 
So  that  we  may  conclude,  that  in  this  feast  in  honour  of  Christ, 
we  are  to  make  a  rclicarsal  of  his  famous  acts,  to  proclaim  his 
mighty  deeds,  to  speak  of  the  glorious  honour  of  his  majesty, 
and  of  his  wondrous  works,  and  to  endeavour  that  one  gene- 
ration may  praise  his  ivorks  to  another,  and  declare  his 
mighty  acts,  that  they  may  speak  of  the  glory  of  his  kingdom, 
and  talk  of  his  power^. 

h  I  Cor.  xi.  20.  '  lb.  X.  21.  ^  lb.  xi.  26.  '  P.sal.  cxlv.  4,  5,  &c. 
PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  H 


98 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


And  indeed  it  should  seem,  that  the  memory  of  a  thing  is  by 
nothing  so  sensibly  preserved  and  so  deeply  engraven  in  men's 
minds  as  by  feasts  and  festival  joys.  For  it  hath  been  the  way 
of  all  the  world,  to  send  to  posterity  the  memory  of  their  bene- 
factors or  famous  persons,  by  instituting  of  such  solemn  times, 
wherein  men  did  assemble  together,  and  by  the  joys  and  plea- 
sures of  them  more  imprint  the  kindnesses  and  noble  achieve- 
ments of  such  worthies  in  their  minds.  So  we  find  among  the 
Greeks  their  Aia/ceta  in  honour  of  iEacus,  their  AlavTeia  in 
honour  of  Ajax,  and  in  latter  times  their  ' Avnyoveia,  and  such 
like,  in  remembrance  of  the  merits  of  such  persons,  and  how 
highly  they  deserved  of  the  places  Avhere  their  feasts  were 
celebrated.  In  like  sort  the  Jews  had  their  feasts  in  memory 
of  some  great  and  rare  passage  of  Divine  Providence,  though 
not  of  any  particular  persons,  lest  they  should  be  tempted  to 
Avorship  them  as  their  saviours,  according  as  the  custom  of  the 
heathen  was.  But  all  worship  being  due  to  our  Lord  and 
Saviour,  he  thought  fit  in  like  manner  to  appoint  this  feast  to 
be  as  a  passovcr  unto  us,  a  holy  solemnity  that  should  call  us 
together  and  assemble  us  in  one  body,  that  we  might  be  more 
sensibly  impressed  with  him,  and  that  all  generations  might 
call  him  blessed,  and  he  might  never  be  forgotten  to  the 
world's  end. 

Now  of  two  tilings  it  is  a  remembrance ;  and  two  ways  we 
commemorate  or  remember  them ; 

I.  It  is  instituted  els  ava.iJ.vr]<nv  rod  (T(t)iJ,aTo-noLri(ra<Tdai  avTov™, 
&c.  '  for  a  remembrance  that  he  was  embodied  for  those  that 
believe  on  him,'  and  became  passible  for  their  sakes.  The 
bread  and  the  wine  are  in  token  that  he  had  a  true  body,  and 
that  the  Word  was  made  flesh.  For  thence  Tertullian  and 
Irenajus  do  confute  Marcion,  who  denied  the  truth  of  Christ's 
flesh,  and  made  his  body  to  be  a  fantastical  thing ;  because 
then  real  bread  and  wine  could  not  be  a  figure  of  it :  and  so 
Theodoret"  saith  out  of  Ignatius,  that  some  (Simon  and  Menan- 
der,  I  think)  did  not  admit  evyapiaTias  /cat  ■npo(r<popas, '  thanks- 
givings and  oflferings'  (viz.  of  bread  and  wine)  in  this  saciM- 

Justin  Martyr,  Dialog,  cum  Tryph.  [§.  70.  p.  168  E.] 
"  Dialog.  3.  [torn.  iv.  p.  231.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  99 

incnt,  because  they  did  not  confess  that  it  was  the  flesh  of  our 
Saviour. 

Now  with  what  affection  we  should  call  to  mind  this  love, 
that  God  would  appear  to  us  not  by  an  angel  in  a  bright 
cloud,  not  in  a  body  of  pure  air,  but  by  his  Son  in  our  own 
flesh,  I  leave  your  own  hearts  to  tell  you.  Methink  we  should 
wish  that  all  the  world  could  hear  us  proclaim  this  love ;  and 
that  even  the  fields  and  forests,  i.  e.  the  most  desolate  and 
heathenish  places,  might  resound  our  joyful  acclamations  to 
him.  We  should  wish  to  feel  something  of  ecstasy,  and  to  go 
out  of  ourselves,  when  we  think  of  him.  For, 

II.  It  was  instituted  eis  avd/xin/o-ir  rov  Trddovs",  'in  commemo- 
ration of  his  passion  and  sufferings  for  us.'  As  the  bread  and 
wine  do  commemorate  the  truth  of  his  body ;  so  do  bread 
broken  and  wine  poured  out  commemorate  the  truth  of  his 
sufferings  for  us,  which  those  fantastical  people  in  the  first 
times  did  no  less  deny.  And  the  bread  and  wine  being  given 
to  us  severally,  not  both  together,  do  clearly  tell  us  that  he 
was  really  dead,  his  vital  blood  being  separated  from  his  body, 
and  his  veins  and  heart  being  emptied  of  it.  This  is  that 
miracle  of  love  which  the  apostle  saith  we  should  shew  forth 
till  he  come :  this  is  that  famous  act  which  never  ennobled  the 
story  of  any  person,  that  the  Lord  would  purchase  enemies  by 
his  own  blood;  yea,  by  the  blood  of  the  cross  reconcile  them 
to  himself.  The  thought  of  this  is  able  to  wound  a  heart  of 
marble  with  love,  and  to  turn  a  rock  into  a  fountain  of  tears, 
and  to  unloose  the  tongue  of  the  dumb,  that  they  may  speak 
the  honour  of  his  Name,  and  shew  forth  his  praise.  And  there- 
fore, because  this  was  such  a  singular  instance  of  love,  and 
because  it  contains  in  it  so  many  secrets  (which  we  should  have 
before  our  eyes)  it  is  the  chief  thing  that  we  are  to  make  a 
remembrance  of. 

But,  as  I  said  before,  there  are  two  parts  of  this  commemo- 
ration, and  it  cannot  be  contained  within  the  bounds  of  this 
world,  but  we  must  make  it  reach  as  far  as  heaven.  For, 

I.  We  do  sheiv  it  forth  and  declare  it  unto  men,  which  is 
sufticiently  clear  by  all  that  hath  been  said.  Wc  do  publisli 
and  auniiufiatc  unto  all  that  he  is  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 


"  Just.  Marl.  ih.  [§.41.  i).  137  D.] 

H  a 


100 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


and  that  he  hatli  died  for  us,  and  purchased  blessings  thereby 
beyond  the  estimate  and  account  of  human  thought.  And 
further,  the  word  Karay-ykkKdv  may  import,  that  we  do  extol, 
predicate,  magnify  and  highly  lift  up  in  our  praises  this  great 
benefit,  so  that  all  may  come  to  the  knowledge  of  it,  as  far  as 
is  in  our  powers  to  procure.  This  commemoration  the  minister 
chiefly  makes  unto  the  people,  and  all  the  people  together 
with  him  to  all  that  are  present,  so  that  all  may  wonder  at 
his  love. 

When  our  Saviour  therefore  saith,  Do  this  in  remembrance 
of  me,  the  meaning  is,  Do  this  in  remembrance  that  I  dwelt  in 
flesh,  in  memory  of  what  I  suffered,  in  memory  of  the  infinite 
price  of  my  blood  which  I  shed  for  you,  in  memory  of  the 
victory  that  I  have  obtained  by  it  over  the  enemies  and 
tyrants  of  your  souls ;  in  memory  of  the  immortal  glory  that 
I  have  purchased  for  you :  celebrate  this  feast  in  memory  of 
all  these  things,  and  when  I  am  dead,  let  me  alway  live  in 
your  heart.  Tell  them  one  to  another  in  a  solemn  manner, 
and  declare  them  in  the  face  of  my  church.  Let  all  ages  know 
these  things,  as  long  as  the  world  shall  last ;  that  as  the 
benefit  is  of  infinite  merit,  so  may  the  acknowledgment  be  an 
eternal  memorial.  Be  so  careful  in  doing  this,  that  when  I 
come  again  I  may  find  you  so  doing. 

2.  We  do  shew  forth  the  Lord's  death  unto  God,  and  com- 
memorate before  him  the  great  things  he  hath  done  for  us. 
We  keep  it,  as  it  were,  in  his  memory,  and  plead  before  him 
the  sacrifice  of  his  Son,  which  we  shew  unto  him,  humbly  re- 
quiring that  grace  and  pardon,  with  all  other  benefits  of  it, 
may  be  bestowed  on  us.  And  as  the  minister  doth  most  power- 
fully pray  in  the  virtue  of  Christ's  sacrifice  when  he  represents 
it  unto  God ;  so  do  the  people  also,  when  they  shew  unto  him 
what  his  Son  hath  sufi^ered.  Every  man  may  say,  "  Behold, 
O  Lord,  the  bleeding  wounds  of  thy  own  Son ;  remember  how 
his  body  was  broken  for  us ;  think  upon  his  precious  blood 
which  was  shed  in  our  behalf.  Let  us  die,  if  he  have  not  made 
a  full  satisfaction.  We  desire  not  to  be  pardoned,  if  he  have 
not  paid  our  debt.  But  canst  thou  behold  him  and  not  be 
well  pleased  with  us  ?  Canst  thou  look  on  his  body  and  blood 
which  we  represent  to  thee,  and  turn  thy  face  from  us  ?  Hast 
thou  not  set  him  forth  to  be  a  propitiation  through  faith  in  his 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


101 


blood  ?  O  Lord,  then  suffer  us  sinful  creatures  to  plead  with 
thee.  Let  us  prevail  in  the  virtue  of  his  sacrifice  for  the  graces 
and  blessings  that  we  need  ;  and  hide  not  thyself  from  us,  un- 
less thou  canst  hide  thyself  from  thy  Son  too,  whom  we  bring 
with  us  unto  thee."  In  this  sort  may  we  take  the  boldness  to 
speak  to  God,  and  together  with  a  representation  of  Christ,  we 
may  represent  our  own  wants,  and  we  may  be  confident,  that 
when  God  sees  his  Son,  when  we  hold  up  him,  as  it  were,  be- 
tween his  anger  and  our  souls,  he  will  take  some  pity,  and 
have  mercy  upon  us.  Just  as  a  poor  man,  pleading  with  a 
king,  commemorates  to  him  the  worthy  deeds  of  some  of  his 
ancestors,  or  makes  mention  of  the  name  of  some  high  favourite, 
for  whose  sake  he  desires  his  petition  may  be  granted :  so  it  is 
with  us,  when  we  come  before  God  to  request  mercy  of  him ; 
wo  can  hope  to  prevail  for  nothing,  but  through  the  Name  of 
our  Lord,  whom  we  can  never  mention  with  so  nnich  advan- 
tage as  when  we  solemnly  commemorate  his  sufferings  and 
dcservings.  For  then  we  pray  and  do  something  else  also 
which  God  hath  commanded ;  so  that  there  is  the  united  force 
of  many  acceptable  things  to  make  us  prevalent.  And  hence 
I  suppose  it  is  that  Isid.  Felus.  P  calls  the  sacramental  bread 
apTov  TTpodeaews,  the  '  shewbread '  (as  we  render  it),  which  we 
set  before  God,  as  that  stood  alvvay  before  his  face  in  the  time 
of  the  Law,  that  God,  looking  upon  it,  might  remember  his 
people  Israel  for  good. 

It  will  not  be  unprofitable  to  add,  that  this  was  one  reason 
why  the  ancients  called  this  action  a  sacrifice  (which  the 
Romanists  now  so  much  urge) ;  because  it  doth  represent  the 
sacrifice  which  Christ  once  offered.  It  is  a  figure  of  his  death 
which  we  commemorate,  unto  which  the  apostle  St.  Paul  (as  a 
learned  man  conceives  1)  hath  a  reference,  when  he  saith  to 
the  Galatians,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  set  forth  evidently  before 
t/ieir  eyes,  crucified  among  them.  They  saw,  as  it  were,  his 
sacrifice  on  the  cross;  it  was  so  lively  figured  in  this  sacra- 
ment. And  it  is  very  plain  that  St.  Chrysostom""  (or  whosoever 
was  the  author  of  those  commentaries)  understood  no  more, 

P  L.  i.  Epist.  123.  [p.  38  C]  Tt  ovv;  rjfieis  Kaff  tKa.<JTr]V  t'jfxf- 

1  l^'Empereur.  [Disp.  thcol.  v.  dc  /iw  ov  Trpofrcfitpoiuv ;  k.t.\.  [hom. 

Coena  Dom.  art.  i.  8vo.  Liigd.  Bat.  xvii.  i.-i.  torn.  xii.  p.  168D,] 

1648.] 


102 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


when  as  he  thus  speaks,  upon  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews; 
"  Wliat  then  ?  do  not  we  offer  every  day  ?  yet  we  offer  by 
making  a  commemoration  {avaixvr](n.v)  of  his  death.  And  we 
do  not  make  another  sacrifice  every  day,  but  alway  the  same, 
or  rather  a  remembrance  of  a  sacrifice."  Such  an  unbloody 
sacrifice,  which  is  only  reraemoi*ative,  and  in  representation, 
we  all  acknowledge.  And  if  that  would  content  them,  we  make 
no  scruple  to  use  Eusebius  his  words,  who  saith  it  is  "  a  remem- 
brance instead  of  a  sacrifice^:"  and  in  another  place,  "  We 
sacrifice  a  remembrance  of  the  great  soxrilice'."  And  so  every 
Christian  is  a  priest  or  a  sacrifice  when  he  comes  to  the  table 
of  the  Lord.  For  as  our  Lord  saith  to  his  apostles,  Luke  xxii. 
19.  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  me;  so  lie  saith  to  every  private 
Christian  the  same  words,  i  Cor.  xi.  24.  Only  there  is  tliis 
difference,  that  Do  this  &c.,  in  St.  Luke,  doth  manifestly  refer 
to  those  words  before,  to  take  bread,  give  thanks,  and  give  to 
others  (which  is  only  the  minister's  work) :  but  in  St.  Paul,  Do 
this  &c.  refers  to  Take,  eat,  which  immediately  precedes ;  and 
this  is  to  be  done  by  all.  So  that  both  the  one  and  the  other, 
in  their  several  kinds,  do  commemorate  Christ,  and  represent 
him  to  the  Father. 

And  that  it  is  only  a  memorial  of  a  sacrifice,  and  not  a  pro- 
pitiatory sacrifice,  the  arguments  of  a  divine  in  the  council  of 
Trent  ^  will  prove,  in  spite  of  all  opposers :  "  Our  Saviour," 
saith  he,  "  did  not  offer  sacrifice  when  he  instituted  this  sacra/- 
ment,  for  then  the  oblation  of  the  cross  would  have  been  super- 
fluous, because  mankind  would  have  been  redeemed  by  that  of 
the  supper  which  went  before.  Besides,"  saith  he,  "  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  altar,  '  as  he  calls  it,  "  was  instituted  by  Christ  for 
a  memorial  of  that  which  he  offered  on  the  cross :  now  there 
cannot  be  a  memorial  but  of  a  thing  past ;  therefore  the  eu- 
charist  could  not  be  a  sacrifice  before  the  oblation  of  Christ  on 
the  cross,  but  shewed  what  we  were  afterward  to  do."  From 
hence  we  argue,  that  if  it  was  not  so  then,  neither  is  it  so  now. 
We  do  nothing  but  what  Christ  then  did ;  and  therefore  if  he 
offered  no  sacrifice,  neither  do  we,  but  only  commemorate  that 

^  L.  i.  Demonst.  Evang.  fJ-vrifirj         *  Qiofitv  rrjv  fivrifir/v  Tov  fitytiXov 

dvT\  Ovcrias.  [^fivrjjxrjv  Koi  rjfiiv  irapa-  6vfJLaT0S.  [p.  27.  fin.] 
bovi,  avTi  6valas  tw  Qeu  diijveKws       ^' Hist.  Cone.  Trent.  [Sarpi,  lib. 

npocftptpeiv. — ]i.  26.]  ]i.  510.1 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  103 

sacrifice  whicli  lie  was  then  about  to  offer.  Tlieret'oro  a  Por- 
tugal divine  in  that  assembly"  made  a  speech  to  prove,  that  it 
could  not  be  demonstrated  out  of  the  Scripture  that  this  sacra- 
ment is  a  sacrifice,  but  only  out  of  the  ancient  Fathers ;  and 
he  answered  all  the  arguments  to  the  contrary  so  strongly,  and 
the  Protestants'  arguments  afterwards  so  weakly,  that  the 
most  intelhgent  were  of  opinion  that  he  did  not  satisfy  himself. 
But  of  this  perhaps  too  much,  unless  the  state  of  things  among 
us  plead  my  excuse. 

I  will  add  but  this  one  thing  more,  and  so  put  an  end  to 
this  chapter ; — that  it  may  be  called  a  sacrifice,  because  with 
the  action  we  do  offer  prayers  to  God  for  all  good  things. 
And  so  St.  Augustin'^  expounds  that  place  in  i  Tim.  ii.  i.  con- 
cerning the  petitions  put  up  at  the  Lord's  supper.  By  "  sup- 
plications" he  understands  the  petitions  put  up  before  the  bread 
and  wine  be  blessed.  By  "prayers"  he  understands  those 
whereby  they  are  blessed  and  sanctified,  and  made  ready  to 
be  given  to  the  people.  By  "intercessions"  he  understands 
the  prayers  made  for  the  people  when  they  do  partake  (for 
then  the  minister,  as  if  he  were  a  kind  of  advocate,  doth  offei* 
them  to  God,  and  commit  them  to  his  hand) :  after  which  fol- 
low the  tvxapi-TTiaL,  '  giving  of  thanks,'  which  are  made  by  all, 
for  that  and  all  other  mercies  that  the  good  God  bestoweth  on 
us.  Whatsoever  becomes  of  this  interpretation,  we  need  not 
fear  to  call  the  whole  action  by  the  name  of  a  sacrifice,  seeing 
part  of  it  is  an  oblation  to  God  of  hearty  prayers  and  thanks- 
givings (as  you  shall  see  presently) ;  and  it  is  not  unusual  for 
that  to  be  said  of  a  whole  that  is  exactly  true  but  of  one  part. 
But  methinks  it  much  unbecoraes  Christians  to  quarrel  about 
names,  especially  about  the  name  of  that  which  should  end  all 
quarrels ;  and  therefore  I  only  intended  to  shew  how  this 
word  may  be  used  (if  we  please)  without  danger,  and  how  the 
ancient  church  did  understand  it. 

A  PRAYER. 

Blessed  Lord,  who  hast  ordained  this  holy  feast  for  a  solemn  and 
aftectionate  commemoration  of  the  condescending  kindness  of  our 
most  gracious  Lord  and  Master,  in  taking  our  nature  upon  him  ; 

"  [George  de  Ataide,  ibid.  Com-    §.  16.  p.  187.] 
pare  Morton, ' Catholike  appcalc  for       "  Epist.  59.  ad  Paulinam.  [al.  149. 
Protestants,'  &c.  part  2.  chap.  7.    torn,  ii,  col.  509  C] 


104 


Mensa  Mi/stica :  or. 


but  especially  in  laying  down  his  life,  nay,  suffering  the  death  of  the 
cross  for  us :  possess  my  soul,  I  beseech  thee  beforehand,  with  such 
lively  thoughts  of  him,  and  of  his  love  to  me  ;  and  with  such  ardent 
love  to  him,  who  hath  given  himself  for  me ;  that  when  I  come  to 
do  this  in  remembrance  of  him,  I  may  want  none  of  those  devout 
affections  which  become  his  presence,  and  ought  to  attend  upon 
him  :  but  may  so  magnify  and  praise  this  inestimable  benefit,  and 
make  such  a  representation  of  it  unto  thy  Divine  Majesty,  that  I 
may  obtain  all  that  mercy  and  grace  from  thee,  which  he  purchased 
by  the  sacrifice  of  his  most  blessed  body  and  blood. 

Which,  I  beseech  thee,  give  me  grace  to  commemorate,  with  such 
supplications  and  prayers,  such  intercessions  and  thanksgivings,  that 
I  may  offer  up  unto  thee  spiritual  sacrifices,  acceptable  unto  thee, 
through  Christ  Jesus.  Amen. 


CHAP.  II. 

It  is  a  remembrance  of  Christ  with  thanksgiving.  For  it  is 
a  feast.  The  Jewish  feasts  upon  their  sacrifice  a  pattern 
of  it.  Especially/  the  paschal  supper,  in  which  they  sung 
an  hymn.  Our  Saviour  gave  thanks  and  blessed  when 
he  instituted  this  feast.  And  his  disciples  kept  it  with 
gladness  of  heart.  And  all  churches  ever  since  have  cele- 
brated it  with  praises  and  thanksgivings.  From  whence  it 
is  evident  there  are  two  otJier  senses  in  ivhich  it  may 
be  called  a  sacrifice. 

This  holy  action  is  to  be  next  of  all  considered  as  a  remem- 
brance or  commemoration  with  thanksgiviiig,  avdnvrja-is  joter 
fvxapi'O'Tias.  And  thence  it  is  called  by  the  name  of  '  eucharist,' 
i.  e.  'thanksgiving,'  according  to  the  phrase  of  ancient  times y. 
For  as  the  bread  and  wine,  the  breaking  and  pouring  out,  are 
representations,  so  our  taking,  eating,  and  drinking,  express 
our  hearty  resentments.  This  good  cheer  cannot  but  breed  a 
certain  cheerfulness.  This  divine  food  cannot  but  fill  us  with 
gladness.  After  we  have  tasted  the  sweetness  of  heaven  and 
earth,  after  we  have  feasted  on  that  which  angels  desire  to  feed 
but  their  eyes  withal,  how  can  it  choose  but  breed  a  spiritual 
joy  in  our  souls,  and  make  our  mouths  break  forth  into  singing  ? 
If  there  be  any  wine  that  makes  glad  the  heart  of  man,  this 

>■  Justin  Martyr,  Apolng.  ii.  [al.  i.  §.  66.  p.  83.] 


.i 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


105 


sure  is  it,  which  is  pressed,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  celestial  vine, 
and  tastes  not  of  the  blood  of  the  grape,  but  of  the  blood  of 
God.  This  should  send  up  our  souls  in  songs  of  praise  to 
heaven ;  this  should  make  us  wish  that  we  could  evaporate  our 
spirits  in  flames  of  love,  and  that  our  souls  were  nothing  but  a 
harmony  and  concent,  that  we  might  always  be  tuned  to  his 
praises.  And  though  the  angels  have  many  strains  of  praise 
that  we  are  unacquainted  withal,  yet  this  is  a  note  that  they 
cannot  sing.  Unto  him  that  hath  loved  us,  and  washed  us 
from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood,  and  hath  made  its  kings  and 
priests  unto  God  and  his  Father ;  to  him  he  glory  and  do- 
minion for  ever"^. 

Now  for  the  fuller  understanding  of  this,  I  take  these  six 
things  to  be  considerable  : 

I.  That  as  it  is  a  feast,  it  betokens  joy,  and  all  joy  at  such 
times  is  expressed  by  songs.  If  we  will  believe  the  wiser  sort 
of  heathens,  they  looked  upon  their  public  feasts,  not  only  as 
times  of  ease  and  outward  mirth,  but  as  instruments  to  raise 
their  thoughts  to  spiritual  things,  and  fill  them  with  an  inward 
joy.  So  Proclus  doth  apply  their  customs  in  the  'ATrarovpta  to 
intellectual  things,  which,  he  saith,  lay  hid  under  such  cere- 
monies. And  among  other  matters  he  saith  ^,  that  their  feasts 
on  the  first  day  of  those  solemnities  were  an  emblem  of  the 
perpetual  quiet  and  tranquillity  we  should  labour  for  in  the 
world,  knowing  that  "  if  we  be  filled  with  God,  he  brings  in 
with  him  a  never  ceasing  feast."  Do  I  hear  a  heathen  speak  ? 
Dropt  these  words  from  the  pen  of  a  pagan  ?  0  my  soul  that 
readest  this,  blush  to  think  that  thou  shouldest  celebrate  a 
divine  feast  without  a  feast,  and  come  to  the  table  of  God 
empty  and  void  of  God.  For  if  they  laboured  to  see  something 
divine  under  1  know  not  what  strange  rites,  how  can  we  choose 
but  be  filled  with  God,  and  festival  joys,  when  we  sit  with  him 
at  a  heavenly  banquet  ?  And  if  we  be,  then  there  will  be  all 
the  usual  attendants  and  companions  of  such  seasons  ^ ;  the  soul 
will  begin  to  leap  and  dance  for  joy,  it  will  awake  psaltery  and 
harp,  I  mean  all  the  instruments  of  praise.  And  so  the  apostle 
(speaking  I  suppose  of  the  Christian  feasts  and  entertainments) 


Rev.  i.  5,6. 

liib.  i,  in  'rima>um.  Ei  yap  tt(- 
TT\r]poi)ij.(da  6ei)V,  nibiov  eoprrjv  oyti. 


[p.  20.  init.] 
Luke  XV.  25. 


lOf) 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


bids  them  not  to  he  drunk  ivith  wine,  wherein  is  excess,  hut  he 
filled  with  the  Spirit,  speaking  to  themselves  in  psalms,  and 
hymns,  and  spiritual  songs,  singing,  and  making  melody  in 
their  hearts  to  the  Lord*^.  These  two  things  did  commonly 
finish  the  lieathen  meetings :  after  they  were  well  liquored 
Avith  wine,  they  used  to  sing  and  roar  the  hymns  of  Bacchus. 
The  apostle  therefore  opposes  two  sorts  of  heavenly  pleasure 
mito  that  madness,  bidding  them  not  to  gorge  themselves  with 
wine,  but  to  crave  larger  di'aughts  of  the  Spirit,  not  to  fill  the 
air  with  ik€\ev  to  Bacchus  (as  the  manner  was),  but  with  hal- 
lelujahs unto  God.  Full  they  might  be,  so  it  were  with  the 
Holy  Ghost.  And  chaunt  they  might,  so  it  were  with  psalms 
and  thanksgivings  to  the  Lord.  They  shall  be  ahundaatly 
satisfied  ivith  the  fatness  of  thine  house,  saith  the  Psalmist, 
and  thou  shalt  make  them  to  drink  of  the  river  of  thy  plea- 
sure^. Even  a  heathen  could  say,  that  "  the  reward  of  virtue 
is  a  perpetual  drunkenness*^."  But  then  we  must  distinguish 
of  drunkenness  as  Ficinus  doth,  who  hath  well  noted that  there 
is  one  earthly  and  nmndane,  when  the  soul  drinks  of  Lethe's 
cup,  and  is  beside  herself,  and  unmindful  of  all  divine  things. 
This  is  it  the  apostle  speaks  against  in  the  beginning  of  those 
verses,  as  a  heathenish  crime.  But  there  is  another  celestial 
drunkenness,  when  the  soul  tastes  of  heavenly  nectar,  and  is 
indeed  out  of  itself,  because  above  itself:  when  it  forgets  these 
mortal  things,  and  is  elevated  to  those  which  are  divine, 
feeling  itself  by  a  supernatural  heat  to  be  changed  from  its 
former  habit  and  state.  This  is  it  which  the  apostle  exhorts 
unto ;  this  is  it  which  we  must  long  for  when  we  are  at  the 
supper  of  the  Lord.  This  is  that  which  the  spouse  means, 
according  to  some  ancient  expositors,  when  she  saith.  He  hath 
brought  me  into  his  banqueting  house  (or  wine-cellars)  and  his 
banner  (or  coverings)  over  me  was  love^\  The  Septuagiiit 
make  it  a  prayer,  and  render  it  thus :  Bring  me  into  his  wine- 
cellar,  place  love  in  order  over  meK  Which  may  be  conceived, 

Ephes.  V.  iS,  19.  f  Vid.  argumentum  Dialogi  2.  de 

•1  Psal.  xxxvi.  8.    Inebriabuntui-  Justo.    [al.  de  Rep.    p.  590.  fol. 

ubertate,  &c.  Vulg.  Francof.  1602.] 

^  Prsemiiim  virtutis  esse  j)erpe-  e  For  they  feasted  upon  beds. 

tuam  ebrietatetn.    [Musa?iis,  teste  ^  Cant.  ii.  4. 

Cael.   Rhodig.  lect.   :inli'|.  lib.  vii.  '  [EicniyayfTe      els  oIkov  tov  oivov, 

cap.  13.  col.  344  li.j  ra^are  eV  e/i£  tiyanr]!', — LXX.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


107 


saitli  onci,  as  the  voice  of  the  cliurcli  to  the  apostles  or  min- 
isters, "  Prepare  for  me  the  supper  of  the  Lord,  set  me  down 
orderly  at  the  ayAm],  the  feast  of  love."  There  is  nothing  that 
holy  souls  can  more  desire  than  to  be  so  satisfied  with  him, 
that  their  mouths  may  praise  him  with  joyful  lips.  This  is  the 
fruit  of  the  spiritual  inebriation,  that  the  soul  meditate  spiritual 
songs  and  hymns  to  God.  And  indeed  the  better  sort  of 
heathens  did  in  their  feasts  sing  the  praises  of  famous  men  ; 
■which  good  critics  make  the  true  original  of  the  word  enco- 
mium^. And  so  the  apostle  exhorts  the  Christians,  that  they 
would  break  forth  into  their  praises  of  God  and  Christ,  who 
were  most  worthy  of  all  their  hymns. 

Before  I  end  this  let  me  observe,  that  every  one  may  sing 
such  hymns  as  the  apostle  calls  for,  and  indite  them  in  his  own 
heart  unto  God,  because  a  hymn  is  not  (as  we  ordinarily  think) 
only  praise  in  verse  and  metre,  but  any  words  of  thanksgiving 
that  set  forth  the  merits  of  him  that  we  extol.  So  a  heathen 
•will  teach  us,  if  we  be  still  to  learn  it.  "  When  a  man,"  saith 
Libanius',  "  hath  any  gift  given  him  by  God,  he  should  by  way 
of  thankfulness  return  something  unto  God  :  and  some  give  one 
thing,  some  another.  The  shepherd  offers  a  pipe,  the  huntsman 
a  stag's  head,  the  poet  a  hymn  in  metre,  the  orator  a  hymn 
without  metre  ;  and  in  my  judgment,"  saith  he,  "  a  hymn  is 
more  valuable  with  God  than  gold,  and  far  to  be  preferred 
before  it." 

Now  love  will  make  any  one  eloquent ;  if  our  hearts  be  full 
of  God,  they  will  run  over.  Thanksgiving  and  praise  is  the 
natural  language  of  a  pious  heart ;  and  there  is  no  such  copious 
subject  whereon  to  spend  them  as  the  Lord  Christ ;  and  in  the 
knowledge  of  Christ,  nothing  so  admirable  as  his  death  ;  and 
therefore  when  we  commemorate  that,  the  high  praises  of  God 
must  be  in  our  mouths. 

IL  The  Jewish  feasts  upon  their  sacrifices  do  more  plainly 
instruct  us  in  this  matter.    They  that  offered  peace-offerings 

i  Polychronius, — 'SvyKfpaa-aTf  /xoi  voc.  ey<ca)/iioi/,et  Aphthon.Progymn. 

TO  (Ta>ixa  Tov  XptoroC,  ev  rrj  dydnri  p.  48.] 

Tcrayfievj]  TroifjaaTf.   [ad  calc.  Eu-  '  Orat.32."ApT€/;nj'— rioirjTijs  vftyof 

seb.  p.  89.]  eV  fj,iTp(aKa\  prjTopiKos  vpvov  I'lvev  pe- 

^  'EyKa>piov  nupd  tov  iv  Koypnis  Tpov,boKe'L  h(  pomaph  Tols  Bfoi's  vpvos 

ghfcrBai   roiis  (TTiitvovs  tmu  dyuOaiii  -j^pvalnv  npoKfKp'KjOiit.  [tom.  ii.  p. 

nvhpS)v.    [Vid.  Etymol.  Mafrn.  in  661  (J.] 


108 


Mensa  Mystica  :  or. 


unto  God  were  admitted  to  eat  some  part  of  them  after  they 
were  presented  to  him,  and  some  pieces  of  them  burnt  upon  his 
altar.  And  this  is  called  partakinfj  of  the  altar which  was 
God's  table  :  where  they  did  rejoice  before  him  as  those  that 
were  suffered  to  eat  and  drink  with  him.  So  I  observe,  that 
where  there  is  mention  made  of  their  eating  before  the  Lord, 
(which  can  signify  nothing  else  but  their  partaking  of  the 
altar,  and  feasting  at  his  table,)  they  are  said  likewise  to  re- 
joice before  him,  Deut.  xii.  7,  18.  xvi.  11,  in  the  latter  of  wliich 
places,  after  he  had  given  command  concerning  the  three  great 
feasts,  he  adds,  ver.  1 4,  thou  shalt  rejoice  in  thy  feasts.  And 
in  the  latter  end  of  king  David's  reign,  when  Solomon  was 
crowned,  there  was  sacrifices  offered  in  abundance  for  all 
Israel  (as  you  may  read  i  Chron.  xxix.  21,22):  and  the  people 
are  said  to  eat  and  drink  before  the  Lord  on  that  day  tvith 
great  gladness.  But  the  Psalmist's  words  are  most  to  be 
observed  to  this  purpose,  Psal.  cxvi.  \2,  13,  where  to  the  ques- 
tion, What  shall  I  return  to  the  Lord  for  all  his  benefits 
towards  me  ?  he  returns  this  answer,  /  will  take  the  cup  of 
salvation,  &c.,  i.  e.  when  I  offer  crwTjjpia,  '  sacrifices  for  salva- 
tion' or  deliverance  that  God  hath  granted  me  out  of  trouble,  I 
will  remember  the  mercy  of  God  with  all  thankfulness,  as  I 
feast  upon  the  remains  of  that  sacrifice.  For  it  was  the  manner, 
that  the  master  of  the  sacrifice  should  begin  a  cup  of  thanks- 
giving to  all  the  guests  that  he  invited,  that  they  might  all 
praise  God  together  for  that  salvation,  in  consideration  of 
which  he  paid  these  vows  unto  him.  And  in  those  words  the 
ancients  thought  they  tasted  the  cup  of  salvation  which  we 
now  drink  in  the  supper  of  the  Lord ;  expounding  them  in  the 
analogical  sense  to  signify  tS>v  ixvaT7]pC<ov  Koivaviav^,  'the  parti- 
cipation of  the  Christian  mysteries.'  For  in  them  we  are  to 
lift  up  songs  of  praise  to  heaven,  as  we  feast  upon  the  sacrifice 
of  Christ,  and  we  are  to  laud  his  name  who  hath  done  such 
great  things  for  us,  and  raised  up  a  horn  of  salvation  to  his 
people.  But, 

III.  In  the  paschal  supper,  when  they  eat  the  lamb  in 
memory  of  the  salvation  out  of  Egypt,  these  festival  joys  and 
thanksgivings  are  more  easy  to  be  observed.    At  which  time 

I  Cor.  x.  iS.  Ezek,  xli.  22.  "  Chrysost.  in  Psalm,  cxvi.  [al. 
Mai.  i.  7.  cxv.  §.5.  torn.  v.  p.  316  A.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


109 


the  1 1 6th  Psahii  was  one  of  those  that  used  to  be  sung.  For 
the  masters  of  the  Jewish  learning  tell  us°,  that  besides  their 
forms  of  blessing  and  thanksgiving,  when  they  took  the  bread 
and  wine  (which  I  need  not  recite)  they  likewise  sung  a  hymn, 
beginning  at  the  cxiii.,  and  reaching  to  the  end  of  the  cxviii. 
psalm.  The  former  part  of  it,  to  the  end  of  the  cxiv.,  was 
recited  when  they  sat  down  to  eat;  and  when  the  fourth  and 
last  cup  went  about,  then  they  sung  the  latter  part,  which  con- 
cluded the  solemnity.  This  hymn  was  called  ^^H'  '  the 
Egyptian  hymn,'  as  AbarbanelP  relates,  in  memory  of  the 
great  dehverance  that  God  vouchsafed  them,  when  he  slew  the 
firstborn  of  Egypt,  and  brought  them  out  of  the  house  of 
bondage,  that  they  might  for  ever  servo  him,  and  offer  sacri- 
fices imto  him.  And  it  may  be  noted,  that  the  beginning  of 
that  hymn  doth  so  clearly  refer  to  that  deliverance,  and  the 
latter  end  of  it  so  manifestly  refer  to  Christ  (who  was  in  the 
passover  represented) ;  that  there  could  not  be  one  more  fitly 
chosen  for  that  commemoration.  Which  likewise  may  teach 
us  (if  we  had  no  other  light  to  guide  us  in  the  business),  that 
our  Lord  is  to  be  remembered  with  such  hymns  and  praises. 

It  is  likely  the  heathens  took  their  custom  of  drinking  cups 
of  praises  to  their  gods  after  their  feasts  fi*om  this  Jewish 
original.  The  first  of  which  they  drunk 'i  as  soon  as  they  had 
supped,  and  called  it  the  cup  ayaOov  batixovos,  '  of  their  good 
genius.'  The  last  which  they  drunk  for  a  parting  cup  they 
called  Atos  ScottJ/jo?,  the  cup  of  '  Jupiter  the  Saviour  :'  and  in 
them  they  gave  praise  to  their  tutelar  angel,  and  the  greatest 
of  their  gods,  their  prime  conservator.  For  that  this  drinking 
was  a  kind  of  sacrifice  of  praise,  and  joined  with  hymns,  Xeno- 
phonf  will  teach  us,  who  thus  speaks ;  "  When  the  tables  were 
taken  away,  they  offered  a  drink-offering,  and  sung  a  song  of 
praise,  and  so  departed  "  The  cup  of  devils  or  daemons  which 
the  apostle  forbids  the  Corinthians,  j  Cor.  x.  21,  are  by  some 


°  [Vid.  Paul.  Fag.  in  Deut.  viii. 
10.  inter  Critic.  Sacr.  torn.  i.  part.  2. 
col.  59.] 

P  Vid.  Bu.xtorf.  in  voc.  bVn. 
[col.  614.] 

1  See  the  Schol.  upon  Aristoph. 
in  Plut.  [vers.  853.]  et  Equit.  [vers. 
85.]  but  especially  in  Iren,  [vers. 


300.]  4>a(ri  yap  otl  8enrpr]<ravT(s 
eTre pf>6cf)ovv  Ayadov  Saipovoi,  anaX- 
XaTTfcrOai  8e  peWovres,  enivov  Atos 
aoiTrjpos.  [Conf.  Aristot.  Q^con.  ii. 
42;  Eth.  Eudem.  iii.  6.  3.] 

^  In  Sympos. — 'Qs  Bt  d(j)rjp(6rj(Tau 
al  rpaTTf^ai,  (cai  evTTfiaavTO  Kai  frraiu- 
viaav.  [cap.  ii.  §.  I.] 


110 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


taken  to  be  these  whicli  I  have  raentionecl^;  wherewith  they 
conchidecl  their  feasts,  after  they  liad  sacrificed  unto  them.  It 
may  well  be  so,  and  thus  much  we  learn  from  them  (who  did 
but  corrupt  many  good  notions  of  rchgion),  that  it  was  an  an- 
cient practice  in  the  world  to  offer  praises  to  God  as  the  last 
and  best  of  their  sacrifices.  And  that  this  cup  which  our  Sa- 
viour filled  to  his  disciples  Avas  truly  such  a  cup  of  salvation, 
you  may  see  by  his  own  practice.  For, 

IV.  Our  Saviour,  in  imitation  of  the  Jewish  solemnities,  did 
institute  this  supper  of  his  with  such  joys  as  I  am  speaking  of. 
For  first  he  did  ^vxapicTTiiv,  '  give  thanks,'  or  evkoytiv,  '  bless 
and  praise  God'.'  Which  was  not  because  they  were  then 
going  to  supper  (for  St.  Matthew  saith  distinctly,  ver.  i6,  that 
as  they  were  eating  he  took  bread  and  blessed ;  and  the  cup 
he  took  after  supper) ;  but  with  a  particular  respect  to  this 
business,  that  he  might  teach  us  what  the  minister  should  do, 
and  all  the  people  joining  together  with  him.  And  Paulus 
Fagius"  thinks  it  not  unlikely  that  our  Saviour  used  some 
part  of  the  form  of  benediction  that  is  still  in  the  Hebrew 
books,  blessing  God  after  that  manner  that  then  was  in  use 
among  the  people  of  God,  to  which  the  later  Jews  have  made 
some  additions. 

Secondly,  they  sung  a  hymn  before  they  departed ;  which 
Paulus  Burgensis"  imagines  to  have  been  no  other  than  that 
Egyptian  hymn  which  I  mentioned  before  (called  by  some  the 
great  Hallel),  because  his  disciples  were  best  acquainted  with 
it.  And  thus  much  seems  to  me  considerable,  that  there  is  not 
only  much  of  Christ  in  that  hymn  (as  was  noted  before) ;  but 
likewise  that  the  whole  multitude  of  disciples,  not  many  days 
before,  when  they  brought  the  lamb  of  God  which  was  to  be 
offered  at  the  passover  into  Jerusalem,  did  rejoice  and  sing 
praises  to  God  with  a  part  of  it ;  as  may  be  discerned  if  you 
compare  Psal.  cxviii.  25,  36,  with  Matt.  xxi.  9,  and  Luke  xix. 

37>  38- 

s  Delrio  in  Isa.  Ixv.  11.  [al.  Ixvi.  quod  principium  et  finem  attinet, 

II.  inter  Adag.  Sacr.  Vet.  Test.  p.  usum  fuisse,  non  autem  aliis,  quae 

421.]  a  posterioribus  Judseis  addita  sunt. 

t  Matt.  xxvi.  I  Cor.  xi.  [Inter  Critic.  Sacr.  torn.  i.  part.  2. 

"  In  Targ.  Deut.  viii. — Verisimile  col.  58.] 
est  Christum  quibusdam,  quae  in        "  [Apud  eund.  il)id.] 
his  precibus  continentur,  maxime 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


Ill 


The  paschal  lamb  was  to  be  taken  up  from  the  flock  four 
days  before  the  time  of  its  offering  y,  in  conformity  to  which  (it 
is  like)  our  Saviour  was  solemnly  now  taken  and  brought  to 
Jerusalem,  just  so  many  days  before  he  was  to  be  offered 
(compare  Matt.  xxi.  17,  18,  and  Matt.  xxvi.  1):  and  as  the 
hosanna  which  they  sung  at  his  preparation  to  his  sacrifice  was 
taken  (as  you  have  seen)  out  of  that  hymn,  so  it  is  probable 
they  used  no  other  when  he  was  represented  to  them  as  slain 
and  eaten  by  them.  It  will  not  be  out  of  our  way  to  observe 
further,  that  this  psalm  was  so  remarkable,  that  the  next  day 
after  these  hosannas  (when  he  saw  they  wrought  nothing  upon 
the  pharisees)  he  reads  them  their  doom  out  of  it,  and  declares 
to  them  his  exaltation  though  they  might  kill  him  ;  The  stone 
which  the  builders  refused,  the  same  is  become  the  head  of  the 
comer :  this  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our 
eyes^.  But  whatsoever  become  of  this  conjecture,  and  sup- 
posing the  hymn  to  be  unknown ;  our  Lord,  no  question, 
taught  us  by  this  practice,  what  we  should  do  when  we  cele- 
brate his  memory.  And  accordingly  you  shall  find  in  the 
Scripture, 

V.  That  the  disciples  did  eat  this  bread  iv  ayaXXida-ei  Kap- 
bCas,  '  with  a  gladness  and  leaping  of  their  heart  for  joy ;' 
alvovvT€s  Qebv,  'praising  and  lauding  God^,'  extolling  of  his 
name  with  hymns  for  all  his  benefits.  Therefore  the  apostle 
Paul  calls  it  the  cup  of  blessing^,  because  (saith  St.  Chryso- 
stom^^)  when  it  is  in  our  hands,  we  laud  the  name  of  God  with 
songs  of  praise,  wondering  and  being  astonished  at  this  un- 
speakable gift :  or  as  Justin  Martyr'^  doth  express  it,  because 
the  minister,  taking  the  cup,  gave  thanks,  and  blessed  God,  as 
our  Saviour  did ;  and  all  the  people  said  Amen,  making  a 
solemn  e-rrevcjirjiiia,  or  acclamation  ;  and  testifying  thereby  their 
hearts  to  be  in  that  thanksgiving.  But  I  need  not  have 
recourse  to  him ;  the  apostle  himself  in  the  same  epistle  ac- 
quaints us  with  it  when  he  saith,  WJien  thou  shalt  bless"  with 
the  spirit  (i.  e.  in  an  unknown  tongue),  hotv  shall  he  that  is 


y  Exod.  xii.  3,  6.  dc^a'rou  Stupeay. — in  loc.  [hom.  xxiv. 

^  Matt.  xxi.  42.  §  I.  torn.  x.  p.  213  A.] 

a  Acts  ii.  46,  47.  d  [Apol.  i.  §  65.  p.  82  E.] 

h  I  Cor.  X.  16.  c  'E(i(/  (vXnyfi(rijs,  &C. 

Qavfid^ovTft,  exTrXf/TTo^ei/ot  tijj 


112 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


unlearned  say  Amen  at  thy  giving  of  thanks^,  seeing  he  knows 
not  what  thou  sayests  ?  From  these  words,  evAoyj/o-jjs  and  ev- 
XapiaHa,  '  shalt  bless,'  and  '  giving  thanks,'  Beza  thinks  ^  that 
lie  touches  upon  the  Lord's  supper ;  for  they  are  the  very 
same  words  which  are  used  concerning  that  action  of  our 
Saviour  when  he  first  celebrated  this  feast ;  as  you  may  see, 
Matt.  xxvi.  26,  27.  And  besides,  the  apostle  seems  in  that 
chapter  to  direct  the  Corinthians  how  to  handle  the  whole 
divine  service  so  that  it  might  be  to  edification.  Now  having 
spoken  concerning  prayer  and  singing  of  psalms,  ver.  14,  15, 
and  instructing  them  afterward  concerning  teaching  and  inter- 
preting of  scripture,  ver.  19.  26,  in  all  likelihood  he  here  tells 
them  how  to  behave  themselves  to  the  same  profiting  of  others 
in  the  supper  of  the  Lord,  at  which  there  were  many  rude- 
nesses committed  by  the  people.  And  that  which  he  teacheth 
them  is  to  give  thanks  in  a  known  tongue',  that  so  all  the 
people,  when  the  minister  comes  to  et's  aicavas  t&v  aicavcav,  '  for 
ever  and  ever'  (as  St.  Chrysostom  speaks),  might  assent  with 
their  wishes,  and  say  Amen.  From  whence  we  may  collect, 
that  giving  of  thanks  is  so  considerable  a  part  of  this  service, 
that  in  the  apostle's  style  it  involves  the  whole  of  it. 

VI.  It  may  further  be  observed,  that  all  churches  in  the 
world  have  always  used  divine  praises  in  this  commemoration ; 
and  (if  we  may  believe  ancient  records)  such  as  are  very 
conformable  to  the  Jewish  benedictions  at  the  passover,  ^T^Il 
^^b^nb<,  &c.  '  Blessed  art  thou,  0  Lord  our  God,  the  King  of 
the  world,  who  hast  produced  bread  out  of  the  earth  :  and 
blessed  art  thou,  &c.  who  hast  created  the  fruit  of  the  vine.' 
And  afterward,  '  Let  us  bless  him  who  hath  fed  us  with  his 
own,  and  by  whose  goodness  we  live,  &c.  For  so  Ave  read  in 
Justin  Martyr'  and  others,  that  in  their  times  the  church  used 
to  praise  God  for  all  things,  and  particularly  for  those  gifts  of 
bread  and  wine,  and  so  for  Jesus  Christ,  his  death,  passion, 
resurrection  and  ascension  ;  beseeching  the  Father  of  the  whole 

^  'EttI  Trj  (jfi  ev)(apicrTia.  Toy  tov  \aov.     [Apol.  i.  §  6^.  p. 

e  I  Cor.  xiv.  i6,  17.  83  A.] 

h  So  the  learned  Mr.  Thorndike       ^  [In  loc.  horn.  xxxv.  §  3.  torn.  x. 

also.    ["  Of  religious  assemblies,"  p.  325  E.] 

cap.  8.  p.  295.J  1  Apolog.  ii.  [ubi  supra.]  et  Con- 

'  So  Justin, —  Ev)(api<TTr)aavTos  TOV  stit.  Apost.  [lil).  vii.  caj).  25.  apud 

irpoea-TwTos  Kai  enevcjirifitjmvTos  rrav-  Coteler.  Patr.  Apost.  torn.  i.  p.  373.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


113 


world  to  accept  of  the  offering  they  made  to  hini.  And  in  after- 
ages,  Cyril  of  Hicrusalem  saith'",  ij.vrifxovevoij.€v  ovpavov  koi  yrji, 
&c.  '  We  make  mention  of  the  heaven,  the  earth,  the  sea,  and 
all  the  creatures,  reasonable  and  unreasonable ;  of  the  angels, 
archangels,  and  powers  of  heaven,  praising  God,  and  saying, 
Holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  God  of  sabaoth,  &c.'  These  do  very 
much  correspond  with  those  Hebrew  forms,  which  perhaps 
they  were  willing  in  part  to  imitate,  for  the  greater  satisfaction 
of  the  Jewish  Christians,  who  constituted  part  of  their  assem- 
blies. One  thing  more  seems  to  be  very  clear,  that  from  the 
hallel  of  the  Jews  it  was,  that  some  ancient  Christians  used  in 
the  fifty  days  after  Easter  to  sing  and  ingeminate  hallelujahs 
in  their  assemblies,  as  a  remembrance  of  that  great  hymn 
which  the  prince  of  the  church  and  his  apostles  sung  after  this 
supper.  This  St.  Augustin"  takes  notice  of,  but  saith,  that  in 
his  days  those  hallelujahs  used  to  be  sung  at  other  times  also. 

From  all  which  Ave  may  discern  a  further  reason  why  they 
called  this  sacrament  by  the  name  of  a  sacrifice ;  because  they 
did  offer  unto  God  thanksgiving  (as  the  psalmist  speaks,  Psal. 
1.  14) :  which  is  one  of  the  spiritual  sacrifices  °  which  every 
Christian  is  consecrated  to  bring  unto  him.  It  is  confessedly 
true,  that  there  never  was  any  festival  instituted  by  any  people 
of  the  world,  but  one  part  of  it  was  a  reverend  acknowledg- 
ment of  God,  and  a  thanksgiving  to  him  for  his  benefits.  And 
there  never  was  any  solemn  feast  either  among  Jews,  Persians, 
Greeks,  Egyptians  or  Romans,  without  some  sacrifice  to  their 
gods.  Christians  therefore  are  not  without  their  sacrifice  also, 
when  they  keep  this  feast,  and  such  a  one  as  is  very  befitting 
God ;  and  which  no  rational  man  can  deny  to  deserve  the 
name.  For  Porphyry?  disputing  against  the  eating  or  sacri- 
ficing of  beasts  unto  God,  denies  that  thereupon  any  ill  conse- 
quence could  be  grounded,  as  if  he  denied  all  sacrifices  to  him. 
'  No,'  saith  he,  Gvofiev  toIvvv  koX  rjjjLf  is,  '  we  likewise  sacrifice 
as  well  as  others,'  aXka  dvaofxiv  ws  -npocri^Kei,  '  only  we  will 

[Catech.xxiii.  mystag.v.  cap.6.  tem   sacrificio   gratiarum  actio  et 

P-327-]  comraemoratio  est  carnis  Christi, 

"  Ut  autem  hallelujah  per  illos  quam  pro  nobis  obtiilit. — Fulg.  de 

solos  dies  quinquaginta  in  ecclesia  fide  ad  Petrum.  [cap.  19.  inter  opp. 

cantetur,  non  usquequaque  obser-  August,  torn.  vi.  append,  col.  30  B.] 
vatur,  &c.— Epist.  119.  [al.  55.  cap.       o  i  Pet.  ii.  5. 
17.  torn.  ii.  col.  141  D.]   In  isto  au-       i' L.  ii.  jrf/vl  aTro^.         [§  34.] 

PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  I 


114 


Mema  Mystica :  or, 


sacrifice  according  as  is  most  meet.'  And  there  he  assigns  to  every 
deity  its  proper  homage  and  acknowledgment  belonging  to  it ; 
saying,  that  to  the  great  God  who  is  6  iul  ttckti,  '  he  above  all,' 
•we  sacrifice  nothing  but  pure  thoughts,  and  speak  not  so  much 
as  a  word  of  him.  But  to  those  that  are  the  ofi'spring  of  God, 
the  celestial  inhabitants,  ttji'  tov  Xoyov  i^ivi^Uav  -npoadtTiov^  '  we 
give  hymns  and  praises,  which  are  the  conceptions  and  ex- 
presses of  our  mind ;'  and  so  he  proceeds  to  the  more  petty 
tributes  paid  to  the  lesser  gods.  According  then  to  this 
heathen  divine,  the  praises  of  God  may  well  pass  for  the  most 
proper  sacrifice;  and  he  makes  account  that  there  is  none 
better  but  only  silent  adorations.  A  soul  breathing  forth 
itself  out  of  an  ardent  affection  in  holy  hymns,  is  more  accept- 
able to  God  than  the  richest  gums,  or  the  sweetest  wood  that 
can  fume  upon  his  altars.  But  a  whole  soul  full  of  pure 
thoughts,  too  great  to  come  out  of  the  mouth,  and  more  clear 
than  to  be  embodied  in  words,  is  transcendent  to  all  obla- 
tions. 

But  yet  I  would  not  be  so  mistaken,  as  if  I  thought  the 
Christian  thanksgiving  consisted  only  in  inwai'd  thoughts,  and 
outward  ^vords.  For  there  are  eucharistical  actions  also  where- 
by we  perform  a  most  delightsome  sacrifice  unto  God. 

AVe  must  not,  when  we  come  to  God,  appear  before  him 
empty ;  but  we  are  to  consecrate  and  offer  unto  him  some  of 
our  temporal  goods  for  the  relief  of  those  that  are  in  want, 
which  may  cause  many  thanksgivings  to  be  sent  up  by  them  to 
God  P.  It  hath  been  said  before,  that  our  whole  selves  ought 
to  be  offered  as  an  holocaust  to  God,  and  our  love  should  be  so 
great,  as  to  spend  om*  souls  and  bodies  in  his  service ;  now  in 
token  that  we  mean  so  to  do,  we  must  give  something  that  is 
ours  unto  him  for  to  be  employed  to  his  uses.  We  are  to  give 
God  an  earnest  of  our  sincere  and  entire  devotion  to  him,  by 
parting  with  something  that  we  call  ours,  and  transferring  it  to 
him.  Of  this  the  apostle  speaks,  Heb.  xiii.  15,  16,  where  the 
serious  reader  (that  can  stay  so  long  as  to  peruse  those  scrip- 
tures which  I  cite)  will  find  both  praise,  and  likewise  commu- 
nication of  our  goods  to  others,  to  be  called  sacrifices.  So  that 
the  spiritual  sacrifice  of  ourselves,  and  the  corporal  sacrifice  of 


p  2  Cor.  IX.  II,  12. 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Siq:>per.  115 

our  goods  to  him,  may  teach  the  papists  that  we  are  sacrificers 
as  well  as  they,  and  are  made  kings  and  ptnests  unto  God^. 
Yea,  they  may  know,  that  the  bread  and  wine  of  the  eucharist 
is  an  oiFering  (out  of  the  stock  of  the  whole  congregation)  to 
this  service,  according  as  it  was  in  the  primitive  times ;  when 
(as  Justin  saith)  they  offered  bread  and  wine  to  the  TipcoecrT^as, 
'  chief  minister'  of  the  brethren,  who  took  it,  and  gave  praise 
and  glory  to  the  Lord  of  the  whole  world,  and  then  made  iirl 
TToXv  a  large  and  prolix  thanksgiving  to  him  that  had  made 
them  worthy  of  such  gifts.  We  pray  him  therefore,  in  our 
communion  service,  to  accept  our  "  oblations"  (meaning  those 
of  bread  and  wine),  as  well  as  our  "  alms."  We  still  make 
XoycKTiv  Koi  aKa-nvov  dvaCav  (as  Origen  his  phrase  is),  a  '  ratio- 
nal and  unsmoky  sacrifice ;'  for  we  offer  ourselves,  and  our 
prayers,  and  our  praises,  and  our  goods.  So  that  if  you  please, 
we  may  call  the  table  of  the  Lord  KoyLKrjv  rpdiTfCar  (in  Theo- 
doret's  style),  a  '  rational  table ;'  where,  as  God  provides  for  us, 
so  we  provide  for  him  in  those  that  are  his  members,  and  offer 
upon  it  those  sacrifices  which  are  most  befitting  either  him  or 
rational  creatures.  And  that  you  may  see  we  are  engaged  to 
this  kind  of  offering,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the  eating  of 
the  lamb  was  not  all  the  solemnity  of  the  passover,  but  they 
sacrificed  likewise  offerings  of  thanksgivings  in  abundance, 
that  there  might  be  provision  for  the  poor.  You  may  under- 
stand this  and  a  diflScult  place  of  Scripture  both  together.  It 
is  said  (according  to  our  translation)  in  Deut.  xvi.  2.  Thou 
shah  sacrifice  the  passover  unto  the  Lord  thy  Ood,  of  the 
flock  and  the  herd  (or  sheep  and  oxen)  in  the  place  ivhich  lie 
shall  choose,  &c.  It  is  well  known  that  the  sacrifice  of  the 
passover  was  to  be  a  lamb  (Exod.  xii.  5.)  taken  from  the  sheep 
or  goats,  and  might  not  be  of  any  other  kind.  Therefore  by 
"IjPi  '  oxen,'  or  '  the  herd,'  in  this  place,  Aben  Ezra  and 
others s  understand  the  eucharistical  sacrifices,  which  we  find 
2  Chron.  xxxv.  7.  9.  were  offered  in  great  abundance.  Or  as 
Abarbanel'  will  have  it,  Moses  speaks  briefly  of  the  passover 
(as  having  suflaciently  told  them  the  manner  of  it  before) ;  so 
that  we  are  to  understand  "I  to  be  wanting  before  1^^!?  (i.e.'  and' 

1  [Rev.  i.  6,  v.  10.]  sacr.  in  loc.  torn.  i.  part.  2.  col.  108.] 

Apolog.  ii.  [al.  i.  p.  82,  3.]  t  [Ibid.] 

'  [Teste  de  Muis,  inter  Critic. 

I  2 


116 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


to  be  wanting  before  '  of  the  flock'),  and  thus  we  must  read  them : 
Thou  shah  sacrifice  t/ie  imssover  to  the  Lord,  and  sheej)  and 
oxen.  Whichsoever  way  we  take  them,  they  tell  us  thus  much, 
that  there  were  other  sacrifices  to  accompany  the  lamb :  for 
the  Jews  were  bound  at  the  three  solemn  feasts  to  be  very 
liberal  and  bountiful,  and  oflfer  according  to  their  abilities,  that 
so  the  Levites  and  strangers,  the  fatherless  and  widow,  might 
feast  and  rejoice  together  with  them,  as  you  may  see,  ver.  lo, 
II,  16,  ly. 

Now  Christ  at  this  feast  having  nothing  else  to  offer  besides 
the  lamb,  he  did  offer  himself,  which  was  more  than  if  the 
cattle  iipon  a  thousand  hills^  had  been  burnt  unto  God,  or  all  the 
world  had  been  laid  on  its  funeral  pile.  In  this  he  dealt  the 
greatest  charity  to  the  world,  and  by  his  poverty  made  us  rich. 
So  that  we  are  the  more  engaged,  not  only  by  their  example, 
but  by  his,  to  offer  up  something  unto  God  beside  praises,  that 
may  supply  the  wants  of  those  who  may  justly  look  to  be 
refreshed  by  us. 

To  conclude  then  this  chapter :  we  must  remember  always 
when  we  approach  to  the  table  of  the  Lord,  that  we  are  to 
bring  hearts  full  of  thankfuhiess,  and  mouths  full  of  praises, 
and  hands  full  of  alms ;  and  that  we  may  bring  all  these, 
we  must  bring  ourselves  to  be  offered  to  him.  Our  hearts 
must  flame  with  love,  our  minds  must  reek  with  holy  thoughts, 
our  mouths  must  breathe  forth  praises  like  clouds  of  incense, 
and  our  hands  must  not  be  lifted  up  with  nothing  in  them ;  but 
we  must  pay  such  acknowledgments  unto  God,  that  may  really 
testify  that  we  and  all  ours  are  his.  We  are  to  think  that  we 
come  solemnly  to  bless  the  Lord  for  all  his  mercies,  and  espe- 
cially this  great  and  rich  one,  that  he  hath  given  his  Son  to 
die  for  us,  and  that  he  hath  purchased  forgiveness,  repentance, 
grace,  and  salvation  by  his  death  on  such  desirable  terms ;  and 
we  must  think  likewise,  that  blessing  of  liim  includes  in  itself 
such  good  works  as  will  provoke  others  for  to  bless  him. 

If  you  would  briefly  understand  therefore  what  the  meaning 
of  this  holy  rite  is,  remember  that  it  is  a  commemoration  of 
Christ  and  his  death,  with  hearty  thanksgivings  for  all  the  be- 
nefits that  we  receive  thereby. 


"  [Psalm  1.  10.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lard's  Supper. 


117 


A  PRAYER. 

Blessed  be  thy  name,  O  Lord,  who  hast  made  our  rehgion  such  a 
cheerful  service  of  thee  ;  and  hast  given  us  such  abundant  cause  to 
give  thee  praise  and  thanks  perpetually ;  or  rather  to  sing  joyful 
hymns,  in  honour  of  thy  holy  name,  who  hast  not  thought  thy  Son 
too  great  a  gift  to  bestow  upon  us ;  and  in  honour  of  our  blessed 
Saviour  and  Redeemer,  who  hath  not  thought  his  own  life  too  much 
to  part  with  for  us. 

Yea,  we  ought  to  give  thanks  and  rejoice,  that  thou  hast  insti- 
tuted this  holy  feast,  to  be  an  everlasting  thanksgiving  for  him,  and 
to  him  :  and  especially,  then  to  have  our  hearts  as  full  of  joy  as  they 
can  hold,  when  we  come  to  partake  of  it ;  to  think  that  we  are  so 
highly  favoured  by  him,  and  beloved  of  him. 

Blessed  be  thy  name  that  I  am  already  thus  disposed  to  bless 
and  praise  Thee,  which  is  an  earnest  of  the  power  of  thy  holy 
Spirit  to  be  with  me,  to  excite  and  stir  me  up  to  the  highest  degree 
of  joy  and  thankfulness,  when  I  come  into  thy  presence,  to  feast 
with  him  at  thy  holy  table. 

O  fill  me  then  with  admiring  thoughts  of  his  astonishing  grace ; 
that  I  may  be  filled,  as  the  apostles  were,  with  gladness  of  heart : 
triumphing  in  the  honour  thou  hast  done  me,  in  making  me  so 
nearly  related  to  the  Lord  of  life  and  glory.  Of  which  had  I  a  full 
sense,  I  know  it  would  transport  my  spirit  from  all  these  little  things 
here,  and  fill  me  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. 

Vouchsafe  me  as  much  of  this  as  thou  in  thy  wise  goodness  shalt 
think  fit  to  impart  unto  one  that  is  unworthy  of  the  least  of  thy 
mercies.  For  all  which  enable  me  then,  as  I  do  now,  to  bless  and 
praise  thee ;  and  with  a  cheerful  heart  to  make  thee,  together  with 
the  oblation  of  myself,  both  soul  and  body,  the  oblation  of  some  part 
of  those  good  things  which  thou  hast  blessed  me  withal  ;  as  an 
earnest  that  I  intend  not  to  forget  to  do  good  and  to  communicate: 
with  which  sacrifices,  I  know,  thou  art  well  pleased,  through  Christ 
Jesus. 

To  whom,  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  endless  praises. 
Amen. 


118 


Mensa  Mystica  :  or. 


CHAP.  III. 

The  third  end  of  this  feast  is  to  be  an  holy  rite  ivhereby  we 
eater  into  covenant  ivith  Ood.  For  God  hath  made  it  an 
act  of  tvorship  tvhereby  we  acknowledge  him,  and  engage 
ourselves  to  him.  As  tve  eat  at  his  table,  ive  profess  our- 
selves to  belong  to  his  family.  By  feasting  at  the  same 
table  covenants  tvere  anciently  made.  Especially  by  feast- 
ing on  a  sacrifice. 

2'he  eating  of  this  sacrifice  is  a  solemn  oath  of  fidelity  to  him. 
As  appears  by  what  the  heathens  thought  of  the  devotion* 
of  the  ancient  Christians. 

There  will  be  no  such  cause  of  joy  as  the  former  discourse 
hath  spoken  of,  if  we  be  not  faithful  unto  God  and  his  Son 
Christ.  And  therefore  we  must  further  consider  tliis  action,  as 
a  rite  whereby  we  enter  into  covenant  with  him.  This  is  in- 
cluded in  our  taking  the  bread  and  wine,  as  well  as  in  our  eat- 
ing and  drinking  of  them ;  and  was  expressed  before,  when  I 
said,  we  must  olfer  om-selves  to  God  as  the  greatest  act  of 
our  thanksgiving.  That  offering  of  ourselves  is  such  a  thing, 
that  it  puts  us  out  of  oui"  own  power ;  and  besides,  we  enter 
here  into  strict  engagements  never  to  resume  or  draw  back 
ourselves  again,  never  to  challenge  any  right  to  have  ourselves 
in  our  own  disposal.  We  make  a  solemn  agreement  with  the 
Lord  Jesus,  that  he  shall  dwell  in  us,  and  possess  himself  of  all 
our  faculties,  as  the  sole  Lord  and  Governor  of  our  souls. 
Though  this  have  been  done  once  already  when  we  were  bap- 
tized, so  that  we  cannot  reverse  the  deed,  nor  cancel  the  bond 
that  is  between  us,  yet  seeing  the  matter  of  the  covenant  is 
alway  to  be  performed,  and  more  than  one  world  depends  upon 
it,  God  thinks  fit  to  take  new  security  of  us,  and  strengthen 
our  obligations,  lest  we  think  of  letting  the  debt  run  on  un- 
paid one  day  after  another,  till  we  be  quite  bankrupts,  and 
have  nothing  left  whereby  to  discharge  it. 

We  are  also  a[)t  to  think  that  we  stand  indebted  unto  God 
in  no  great  sum ;  and  that  though  we  should  spend  prodigally 
till  the  latter  part  of  our  life,  yet  we  should  have  enough  to 
pay  him,  and  give  him  very  good  content.  Therefore  it  is  but 
necessary  that  Ave  should  often  be  remembered  of  our  huge  en- 
gagements, presently  to  perform  our  word  to  him  :  and  when 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  119 

we  begin  again  to  fail,  and  not  to  keep  our  credit  witli  him,  it 
is  no  less  necessary  that  he  should  call  again  upon  us,  and  have 
us  enter  into  more  solemn  bonds  of  a  stricter  performance. 

And  truly  they  that  know  what  it  is  to  enjoy  God  long  for 
no  better  entertainment  from  him  when  they  come  to  his  house 
and  table,  than  that  they  may  be  tied  faster  to  him  with  new 
cords  of  his  love  ;  and  that  it  may  be  made  more  impossible 
for  them  to  unloose  themselves  from  liis  service.  What  is  there 
more  in  the  desire  of  a  holy  soul,  than  to  cease  to  be  its  own  ? 
what  greater  pleasure  doth  it  feel  than  in  parting  with  itself? 
To  what  would  it  be  more  engaged,  than  to  the  pleasing  of 
him  whom  it  heartily  loves  ?  Let  me  be  bound  hand  and  foot 
(saith  such  a  soul)  that  I  may  never  stir  from  him.  Let  me 
seal  to  him  a  thousand  deeds  to  convey  myself  imto  him.  If 
he  would  have  me  sign  the  covenant  with  my  blood,  every 
vein  in  my  body  shall  leap  to  ,do  him  that  honour.  But  rather 
let  him  come  and  seat  himself  in  my  heart,  and  let  him  take 
my  dearest  life-blood,  if  it  will  do  him  any  service.  I  accept  of 
a  suffering  Saviom' :  I  take  him  as  he  is,  all  broken  and  bloody. 
If  he  will  have  me  follow  him  with  a  cross  upon  my  shoulder,  I 
refuse  no  conditions ;  behold,  O  Lord,  thy  servant,  do  with  me 
as  seems  good  in  thy  sight. 

Thus  we  are  to  address  ourselves  to  this  feast,  as  will  be 
better  understood  if  we  consider  these  five  things  : 

I.  If  we  look  upon  this  action  only  under  the  general  notion 
of  a  holy  rite  which  God  hath  appointed  as  an  act  of  his  wor- 
ship ;  yet  the  very  using  of  it  is  an  acknowledgment  of  him 
and  his  religion,  and  an  engagement  of  ourselves  unto  him  as 
our  God.  He  that  was  circumcised  was  bound  to  observe  the 
whole  law ;  and  so  was  he  that  offered  sacrifice  to  the  God  of 
Israel  at  his  altar  engaged  to  own  him  that  had  appointed  that 
worship.  Just  so  the  performing  but  of  one  thing  which  God 
hath  appointed  as  a  ceremony  in  the  rehgion  of  Christ,  doth  tie 
us  to  observe  the  whole  religion  which  he  requires,  who  did  ap- 
point that  rite.  And  you  may  Ukewise  observe,  that  there 
being  a  mutual  action  in  this  sacrament,  of  God's  giving  some- 
thing, and  our  taking,  it  doth  express  that  we  are  fiist  bound 
in  that  covenant,  of  which  this  action  is  a  part.  So  the  giving 
and  taking  but  of  so  small  a  thing  as  a  straw,  doth  bind  per- 
sons firmly  to  that  thing  whereof  they  are  agreed,  and  which 
they  conclude  in  that  manner.  Stipulation  (one  of  the  strongest 


120 


Me  am  Mystica  :  or, 


words  which  we  have  to  signify  the  confirmation  of  a  bargain) 
was  anciently  made  by  no  stronger  thing,  as  the  very  word 
doth  import,  which  carries  a  straw  in  its  name'.  And  so  any 
other  tiling  in  the  world  may  bo  used  to  the  same  purpose. 
The  giving  and  taking  of  sixpence  to  strike  up  a  contract,  doth 
lay  as  fast  hold  of  a  man  as  ten  thousand  pound  in  hand. 
Much  more  then,  this  solemn  giving  and  taking  of  bread  and 
wine,  being  a  piece  of  Christ's  rehgion,  and  he  so  represented 
by  tliem,  doth  bind  us  as  fast  to  him,  as  if  we  should  repeat 
every  word  that  he  hath  said,  and  profess  our  consent  unto  it. 
We  are  supposed  to  know  the  terms  of  that  writing  that  Christ 
hath  left  us,  containing  our  duty  and  his  promises ;  and  it  is 
presumed  we  are  wilhng  to  enjoy  those  promises,  and  so  to  per- 
form those  duties.  This  action  then  doth  but  more  solemnly 
conclude  the  agi'eement,  and  we  hereby  stand  engaged  as 
strongly  as  if  covenants  had  been  drawn  between  us,  and  our 
hand  and  seal  were  affixed  to  them. 

II.  But  then  if  we  considsr  this  action  as  a  coming  to  God's 
table  and  partaking  of  his  meat,  Ave  shall  presently  discern  that 
thereby  we  profess  ourselves  of  his  family,  and  declare  to  all 
that  we  are  his  followers  and  retainers,  and  that  we  own  the 
rehgion  of  the  crucified  Jesus.  I  confess  that  coming  to  Christ- 
ian assemblies  in  the  first  times  was  an  owning  of  Christ,  be- 
cause it  was  very  dangerous ;  but  this  action  which  was  in 
those  assemblies  performed  was  a  more  express  profession  of 
their  behef  in  him  and  friendship  with  him.  For  the  great 
stumbiiagblock  of  the  Jews  was  the  cross  of  Christ ;  and  it 
was  foolishness  to  the  Gentiles.  To  declare,  therefore,  this 
death  and  cross  of  his,  to  eat  of  his  dead  body,  and  drink  of 
his  blood  was  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  believe  in  this  suffering 
Saviour  ;  I  am  a  Christian,  and  will  live  and  cbe  in  this  reli- 
gion." A  stranger  may  come  unto  a  man's  house,  but  the 
friends  only  are  they  that  sit  with  liim  at  his  board ;  and  he 
that  is  not  true  to  him  of  Avhose  bread  he  eats  is  the  worst 
and  basest  of  all  enemies.  The  Psalmist  could  put  no  worse 
character  upon  an  enemy  than  thisi,  that   he  who  put 

*  [In  deciding  the  doubtful  ety-  from  the  stipula  or  'straw'  held  in 
raology  of  the  word  stipulatio  John-  their  hands  by  the  contractinjr  par- 
son and  Richardson  follow  Voss  ties  to  represent  the  whole  land 
( Ktyniol.  Lat.)  in  adojjting  the  deri-  subject  to  the  bargain.] 
ration  of  it  by  Isidore  of  Seville        "  Ps.  xli.  9. 
(Orig.  hb.v.caj).  24.tom.iii.  p.  204), 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


121 


forth  his  hand  to  eat  of  his  bread  had  lifted  up  his  heel 
against  him.  By  coining  then  to  God's  table  we  profess  oiu'- 
selves  liis  familiar  friends,  in  whom  he  reposes  a  trust ;  and  wc 
can  put  no  greater  scorn  upon  him  than  by  being  false  to  him 
that  doth  admit  us  to  such  a  nearness.  You  may  observe 
therefore  in  Scripture  these  two  things  :  first,  that  eating  of 
bread  together  is  spoken  of  as  a  token  of  fi'iendship  and  agree- 
ment, as  these  two  places,  among  others,  will  satisfy  you.  Job 
xhi.  1 1,  Jer.  xh.  i.  Bread  is  never  wanting  at  any  feast ;  and 
so  they  expressed  by  it  a  friendly  entertainment.  Whence 
Pythagoras  gave  this  lesson  to  his  scholars,  apTov  fxi]  Kara- 
yvv^Lv^,  '  Do  not  break  bread,'  i.  e.  Ne  dirimas  amicitiam, 
'  never  break  friendship,'  but  let  it  remain  inviolable.  And  so 
hkewise,  salt  being  never  absent  from  any  meal,  and  placed 
upon  the  table,  it  hath  been  used  as  a  symbol  of  friendship ; 
and  to  have  eaten  salt  with  a  man,  at  this  day,  is  proverbially 
as  much  as  to  be  well  acquainted  with  him  :  which  was  a  word 
as  usual  in  ancient  times  among  other  people ;  according  to 
that  speech  of  Aristotle",  "  We  cannot  know  one  another  till, 
according  to  the  proverb,  we  have  eaten  a  quantity  of  salt 
together."  The  Turks y,  at  this  day,  join  both  together  ;  and 
to  say,  "  I  have  eaten  bread  and  salt  with  such  an  one,"  is  an 
expression  of  having  good  acquaintance  with  him.  All  which  I 
but  briefly  touch  upon  to  make  it  more  sensible  to  us,  that  this 
participation  of  God's  bread  is  a  token  that  we  are  of  his  ac- 
quaintance, and  we  tell  the  world  thereby,  that  we  profess  all 
love  and  friendship  to  him. 

The  second  thing  I  would  have  noted  is,  that  covenants  (in 
Scripture  story)  are  made  by  eating  and  drinking  together. 
For  which  1  need  produce  no  other  places  but  those  in  Gen. 
xxvi.  30,  xxxi.  44.  54,  where  Isaac  and  Abimelech,  Jacob  and 
Laban,  conclude  their  compacts  with  a  feast.  But  you  may 
add  (if  you  please)  that  in  Josh.  ix.  14,  where  it  is  said.  The 

V  [Diog.  Laert.  in  Vita  Pythag.  bal)ly  from  memory,  has  committed 

lilj.  viii.  cap.  I.  §  35.]  an  inaccuracy  in  his  reference  for 

"   Kara  rrju  ivapoijxiav  yap  ovk  this  proverl)ial  usage  of  the  eastern 

i'<TTtv  flBrjdai  dXXijXour,  nplv  Toiis  nations  generally.  No  such  ])assage 

Xfyo/j<VoDr    (iXns    (TwuvaXSytrai.  —  is  to  he  found  in  the  life  of  Mahomet 

Aristot.  1.  8.  Ethic,  caj).  3.  [§  8.]  the  First  in  tlic  History  of  the  Tiu-ks 

>■  Knolles  in  the  life  of  Maho-  by  Sir  F.  Knollys,  continued  hy  Sir 

met  I.    [The  author,  quoting  pro-  Paul  Rycaut.] 


122 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


people  took  of  the  victuals  of  the  Oibeonites,  and  asked  not 
counsel  at  the  mouth  of  the  Lord,  i.  e.  they  made  a  covenant 
with  them  before  they  consulted  with  the  holy  oracle  whether 
they  were  what  they  pretended  to  be  ;  for  so  some  good  inter- 
preters, both  Jewish  and  Cliristian,  expound  the  words,  because 
else  we  cannot  understand  why  it  should  be  a  crime  to  taste 
whether  their  bread  was  so  dry  as  they  said  (as  othei's  think 
the  meaning  is),  without  going  to  inquire  of  God  the  lawful- 
ness of  such  a  fact.  It  is  very  hkely  also  that  from  this  origi- 
nal that  phrase  is  derived,  of  a  '  covenant  of  salt,'  which  in 
Scripture-style  signifies  an  everlasting  and  unalterable  settle- 
ment ^  ;  because  such  leagues  which  are  made  with  the  profes- 
sion of  the  greatest  friendship  (as  if  men  were  cohabitants  and 
familiars)  ought  to  be  held  most  sacred,  and  religiously  ob- 
served. Now  this  bread  and  wine  in  the  sacrament  is  God's, 
both  as  it  is  offered  by  us  unto  him,  and  as  it  is  consecrated  to 
represent  his  Son  Christ  unto  us ;  and  therefore  we,  by  par- 
taking of  it,  do  solemnly  engage  ourselves  unto,  and  promise 
our  fidehty  in  his  service,  as  those  that  are  his  domestics,  and 
desire  always  to  remain  in  his  familiarity.  But  suppose  any 
person  should  give  us  his  very  blood  to  drink,  that  we  might 
the  more  firmly  be  obliged  to  him  :  what  could  there  be  de- 
vised more  strong  to  tie  our  hearts  together  ?  So  the  conspi- 
rators with  Catiline  did  combine  and  join  themselves  together 
by  drinking  of  their  own  blood,  that  they  might  be  bound  in  a 
covenant  exceeding  the  strength  of  all  others  which  are  made 
by  eating  of  common  food.  And  so  doth  Christ  take  us  into 
his  society,  and  bind  us  to  him,  by  giving  us  the  representa- 
tions of  his  own  flesh  and  blood  to  eat  and  drink,  that  so  we 
might  never  think  of  departing  from  him  who  hath  admitted 
us  to  that  food,  which  is  as  much  beyond  all  others  in  its  obli- 
gatory virtue,  as  it  is  in  its  own  proper  worth  and  excellency. 

And  that  you  may  see  it  more  fully  verified  that  this  eating 
and  drinking  is  a  federal  rite  between  God  and  us,  let  it  be 
considered, 

III.  As  a  feast  upon  a  sacrifice  (in  which  notion  it  is  most 
rarely  explained  by  an  excellent  doctor  of  our  own^);  from 

z  Numb,  xviii.  19.  2  Chron.  course  concerning  the  true  notion 
xiii.  5.  of  the  Lord's  Supper,'  cited  above, 

a  D.  Cudworth.  [in  his  '  Dis-    p.  92.] 


A 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


123 


whirli  it  will  evidently  appear  to  be  intended  as  a  solemn  j))'ofes- 
sion  of  Christ's  religion,  and  a  renewal  of  our  covenant  with  God. 

For  the  understanding  of  this,  you  must  know,  that  Jerusa- 
lem being  the  holy  city  in  God's  land,  and  the  temple  being 
the  house  of  God,  where  he  dwelt,  and  the  priests  God's  ser- 
vants, and  the  altar  his  table  (as  was  said  before) ;  there  was 
a  constant  provision  brought  in  for  the  keeping  of  God's  house, 
and  maintaining  of  his  servants.  And  besides  those  of  the 
morning  and  evening,  there  Avere  a  great  number  of  occasional 
sacrifices  (which  were  his  flesh)  together  with  their  meat  and 
drink  offerings  (which  were  his  bread  and  wine)  that  came  in 
to  be  his  food,  as  the  expression  is,  Levit.  iii.  i  r .  These  com- 
mon sacrifices  were  of  three  sorts.  The  first  were  holocausts 
or  burnt  offerings,  so  called  because  they  were  consumed 
wholly  upon  God's  altar  by  his  fire",  (which  at  first  came  from 
heaven,  and  was  never  to  go  out,)  none  eating  of  them  but 
himself.  The  second  we  may  call  Expiatory,  because  they 
were  to  make  atonement  and  reconcile  ;  which  were  of  two 
sorts,  sin-offerings  and  trespass-offering.  These  the  priests  did 
eat  of,  (if  they  were  not  such  whose  blood  was  carried  within 
the  holy  place,)  as  you  may  read  in  Levit.  vii.  7,  9:  Numb,  xviii. 
9,  10.  For  they,  being  God's  servants,  were  to  be  maintained 
and  kept  in  his  family,  and  beside  hereby  did  take  the  man's 
guilt  (as  it  were)  and  carry  it  away'' :  but  none  else  were  per- 
mitted to  eat  of  it,  being  supposed  to  be  in  a  state  of  guilt,  and 
not  fit  to  have  familiarity  with  God.  The  third  sort  were 
peace-offerings,  which  were  made  to  God  for  some  benefits  re- 
ceived (which  go  among  the  Hebrews  under  the  name  of 
peace),  to  testify  their  gratitude  unto  hiin.  The  fiit  of  these 
offerings  being  burnt  upon  the  altar  to  God^,  and  one  breast 
with  a  shoulder  being  given  to  the  priest  for  his  portion^,  the 
remainders  were  the  owner's  share,  that  he  might  eat  of  God's 
meat,  and  so  feast  with  him  (if  he  Avas  not  in  any  legal  unclcan- 
ness),  as  you  may  see  Lev.  vii.  20. 

The  examples  of  such  sacrifices  are  numerous  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, not  here  to  be  amassed  together  and  wrapt  up  in  these 
sheets.    It  may  suflice  to  note  two  places  which  lie  close  toge- 


Ps.  Ixxxv.  I.     J  Kings  vi.  i. 
Ps.  cxxxv.  I,  2. 
<^  Lev.  i.  9,  13. 


Lev.  vi.  25,  26. 
Lev.  iii.  3,  4. 
f  Lev.  vii.  34. 


124 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


ther  :  they  were  sacrifices  of  this  sort  that  Elkanah  offered 
when  he  went  yearly  unto  Shiloh,  giving  portions  (viz.  of  the 
sacrifice)  to  liis  whole  family  that  went  with  him,  but  to  Han- 
nah a  double  portion  s. 

Those  offerings,  likewise,  which  the  sons  of  Eh  made  men  to 
abhor  were  of  the  same  kind^^,  and  theu*  sin  consisted  in  these 
two  enormities  :  first,  that  they  were  not  content  with  that 
portion  which  was  assigned  them  by  law  (viz.  the  breast  and 
shoulder),  but  they  took  what  and  as  much  as  they  list'.  And, 
secondly,  that  they  took  their  portion  before  God  had  his,  i.  e. 
before  the  fat  was  burnt  upon  the  altar),  a  rudeness  which  the 
Gentiles  would  not  have  been  guilty  of,  except  some  belly-gods 
and  atheistical  gluttons.  For  when  they  woidd  set  forth  the 
intemperance  of  such  a  man,  they  could  say  no  worse  than 
tliis,  Hand  immolata  sacra  devorat^;  he  devoui*s  the  sacri- 
fices before  they  be  offered  to  God.  This  I  mention,  because 
they  were  not  strangers  to  tliis  kind  of  sacrifice  (no  more  than 
to  the  rest),  but  did  offer  them  frequently  to  their  gods.  You 
may  take  one  example  out  of  a  multitude  which  expresses  both 
this  custom  of  eating  part  of  the  sacrifices,  and  likewise  their 
forbearance  to  take  any  part  tiU  God  had  his.  "  The  Egj-ptians," 
saith  Herodotus^,  "  while  the  sacrifices  were  burning,  did  beat 
and  knock  themselves  ;  and  after  they  had  done  so,  then  they 
made  a  feast  of  the  rehcs  of  the  sacrifice."  We  may  learn  thus 
much,  by  the  way,  of  these  heathens,  that  God  is  to  be  served 
before  om'selves,  and  there  is  no  true  joy  but  that  which  arises 
out  of  true  sorrow. 

!Jsow  that  this  eating  and  drinking  was  intended  as  a  rite 
of  covenanting  with  that  deity  to  whom  the  sacrifices  were 
offered,  or  else  as  a  profession  that  they  were  in  the  covenant, 
and  did  remain  God's  friends  (if  they  were  already  of  the  reh- 
gion),  you  may  discern  from  these  two  places,  which  wiU  lead 
me  to  that  for  which  all  this  is  said.  When  Moses  had  re- 
hearsed to  the  people  Gods  laws'",  which  he  gave  on  Mount 
Sinai,  and  then  came  to  strike  the  covenant  between  God  and 

e  I  Sam.  i.  4, 5.  '  In  Euterpe.  —  Kaw^iivaiv  twv 

^  I  Sam.  ii.  17.  Upwv,  TxmToinai  iravTes'    eireav  df 

'  \  erse  13.  dnorinlfcovrai,   dalra  npoTidevrai  ra 

j  Verses  15,  16.  eXiTroiTo  twv  Upwi'.   [lib.  ii.  cap. 

[Prov.  Lat.  teste  Hoffman,  in  .40.] 

Lc.\ic.  sub.  voc.  '  Victima.']  ™  E.\od.  xx-xxiii. 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Sujyjier. 


125 


Israel,  it  is  said",  that  Moses  sent  young  men  (i.  e.  some  of  the 
first  born,  who  were  the  priests  hitherto)  to  offer  burnt-offer- 
ings and  peace-offerings  of  oxen,  and  half  of  the  blood  he 
sprinkled  on  the  altar,  which  represented  God,  and  the  other 
half  he  sprinkled  on  the  people  °  as  a  token  of  the  covenant 
between  them.  But  for  completing  of  the  compact,  the  chief 
of  the  people  went  up  nearer  to  God,  and  saw  that  bright  ap- 
pearance, and  did  eat  and  drink  P  ;  which  sure  must  be  under- 
stood of  their  feasting  upon  the  peace-offerings  which  had 
been  sacrificed  unto  God,  whereby  they  professed  to  own  that 
covenant  he  had  given  to  them. 

Not  long  after,  this  people  made  to  themselves  other  gods, 
and  offered  not  only  burnt-offerings  but  also  peace-offerings  to 
them,  and  then  sat  down  to  eat  and  drink,  and  rose  Uj:)  to 
play^,  i.  e.  to  be  wanton,  and  commit  uncleanness  with  each 
other.  Now  that  this  was  an  associatino;  of  themselves  with 
the  Egyptian  gods,  we  may  learn  from  the  apostle,  who,  recit- 
ing of  this  passage,  and  speaking  of  their  idolatry,  makes  no 
mention  at  all  of  their  sacrificing  to  these  new  gods,  but  only 
of  this  eating,  &c.  which  did  conclude  the  ceremony ;  as  if  the 
idolatry  did  formally  consist  in  this,  and  that  hereby  they  did 
devote  themselves  to  that  strange  worship.  Neither  be  you  idol- 
aters, (saith  he,  i  Cor.  x.  7.)  as  ivere  some  of  them;  as  it  is 
written,  The  jnople  sat  down  to  eat  and  to  drink,  and  rose 
up  to  play.  By  which  words  you  may  see  the  apostle  makes 
account,  that  this  eating  and  drinking  of  the  sacrifices  was  a 
renouncing  of  the  covenant  of  their  God,  and  joining  of  them- 
selves to  idols.  Now  because  it  was  the  manner  (as  it  seems) 
of  some  of  the  Corinthians  still  to  feast  in  the  idols'  temples, 
and  perhaps  in  the  temple  of  Venus,  famous  in  that  city,  which 
makes  the  apostle  add  those  words.  Neither  commit  fornica- 
tion, as  some  feC"  he  tells  them  that  this  was  a  plain  forsaking 
of  Christ,  and  utterly  incompatible  with  his  profession.  For 
the  vouching  of  which  assertion,  he  reminds  them  what  the 
sacrament  of  the  supper  of  the  Lord  doth  import,  viz.  a  Kotv(a- 
viav,  '  participation  or  communion '  of  the  body  and  blood  of 
Christ S  which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  it  is  a  profession  that  we 


"  Exod.  xxiv.  5. 
°  Ver.  6-8. 
V  Ver.  II. 


1  Exod.  ,\xxii.  6. 
>•  Ver.  8. 
Ver.  16, 17. 


126 


Mensa  Mi/stica :  or, 


as  one  body,  partaking  of  one  bread,  do  hold  communion  with 
Christ,  and  adhere  unto  lilm  as  our  Lord  and  Head,  and  that 
to  his  worship  and  service  we  do  consecrate  ourselves.  For 
just  as  Israel  by  eating  of  the  sacrifices  partake  of  (or  have 
communion  with)  the  altar i.  e.  profess  to  be  of  that  religion, 
and  adhere  to  that  way  of  worship ;  so  it  is  with  Christians, 
when  they  eat  of  the  body  and  blood  of  the  crucified  Saviour 
which  was  offered  for  us.  And  therefore  by  a  likeness  of 
reason  he  concludes,  that  to  partake  of  the  table  of  devils,  and 
eat  of  things  sacrificed  to  them,  was  to  profess  to  have  com- 
munion with  those  impure  spirits,  and  thereby  to  desecrate 
themselves ;  it  being  impossible  for  them  at  once  to  be  devoted 
to  things  so  quite  contrary  as  Christ  and  the  devil*. 

From  all  which  discourse  we  may  thus  reason,  that  this  holy 
sacrament  is  a  feast  upon  the  sacrifice  which  Christ  offered,  as 
the  Jewish  feasts  were  made  with  the  flesh  of  those  sacrifices 
which  they  offered  to  God.  For  the  apostle  makes  the  com- 
munion of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  ver.  i6,  parallel  to 
eating  of  the  sacrifices,  ver.  18.  And  therefore  it  is  a  rite 
whereby  we  solemnly  addict  ourselves  to  the  service  and  wor- 
ship of  Christ,  and  take  upon  ourselves  strict  engagements  to 
be  faithful  in  that  covenant  that  is  between  us ;  which  is  the 
thing  that  was  to  be  proved.  As  Israel  joined  themselves  to 
God  by  feasting  in  his  house  of  the  sacrifices,  so  we  join  our- 
selves to  Christ  by  feasting  in  the  place  of  his  worship,  and  at 
his  table,  upon  the  remembrances  of  his  body  and  blood.  And 
our  obligations  to  cleave  unto  him  do  as  much  excel  all  other 
ties  in  their  sacredness,  strength,  and  virtue,  as  the  sacrifice 
of  Christ  excels  the  sacrifice  of  a  beast,  or  the  eating-  and 
drinking  of  his  body  and  blood  is  beyond  all  participation  of 
the  meat  of  the  ancient  altars.  Yea,  it  is  supposed  that  we  are 
the  friends  of  God  before  we  come  hither,  and  that  we  are  not 
in  any  willing  uncleanness  (else  we  should  be  shut  out  from 
partaking  of  this  offering).  And  therefore  our  approach  to  his 
table  is  but  more  strongly  to  tie  the  knot,  and  to  bind  us  in 
deeper  promises  to  continue  friendship  with  him. 

If  more  can  be  said  than  this,  I  may  add,  that  the  eating  of 
tlois  sacrifice  is  a  solemn  oath  that  we  will  be  true  and  loyal 


^  Ver.  18. 


*  Ver.  20,  21. 


A  Discourse  of  (he  Lord's  Supper. 


127 


to  him.  For  even  heathens  themselves  did  use  hy  sacrifice  to 
bind  themselves  in  oaths".  From  whence  it  is  that  opKiov  sig- 
nifies that  sacrifice  which  was  slain  when  they  made  a  covenant, 
and  (in  regard  of  its  relation  to  opKos)  may  be  rendered  '  the 
oath-sacrifice.'  And  opKia  rip-veiv,  '  to  cut  this  sacrifice '  (in 
Homer's  phrase),  is  to  make  a  covenant,  which  it  is  likely  may 
be  taken  from  the  Hebrew  custom  mentioned  Jer.  xxxiv.  i8. 
And  to  swear  em  Toixmv,  '  upon  the  warm  entrails  of  the  beast,' 
was  the  greatest  oath  that  could  be  made.  When  we  lay  our 
hands  therefore  upon  the  body  of  Christ  that  was  sacrificed  for 
us  (and  much  more  when  we  eat  of  it),  we  do  solemnly  take 
our  oaths  that  we  will  be  his  faithful  federates,  and  rather  die 
than  shrink  from  those  duties  to  which  we  bind  ourselves. 

IV.  If  there  be  any  that  look  upon  eating  and  drinking  of 
this  bread  and  wine  only  as  symbols  of  believing  in  Jesus 
Christ,  the  matter  draws  to  the  same  point;  for  faith  is  the 
condition  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  and  comprehends  in  its 
signification  all  that  God  r'equires.    So  some  of  the  ancients 
expound  those  words,  John  vi,  He  that  eateth  mxj  flesh,  and 
drinketh  my  blood,  hath  eternal  life^,  to  signify  thus  much  ; 
He  that  is  made  partaker  of  my  wisdom,  through  my  incarna- 
tion and  sensible  hfe  among  men,  shall  be  saved.    For  flesh 
and  blood  (saith  Basil  >)  he  calls  iraaav  avTov  ti]v  fxva-riKriv  iiri- 
brjiMiuv,  .  .  Koi  TTjv  bibaaKakiav,  '  all  the  mystery  of  his  incarna- 
tion and  conversation  here  in  the  flesh  amongst  us,' '  together 
with  his  doctrine  which  he  hath  taught  us,'  8t'  rpecfxrai 
^j/vxV'       '  by  which  the  soul  is  nourished,'  and  fitted  for  the 
sight  of  celestial  things ;  and  therefore  eating  and  drinking  of 
these  must  denote  embracing  of  his  whole  religion,  so  as  to  be 
conformed  to  him  and  to  his  doctrine.  If  then  we  take  the  body 
and  blood  of  Christ  in  this  supper  represented  to  us  to  signify 
the  same,  and  eating  and  drinking  to  be  only  believing,  yet 
you  may  easily  see  to  how  much  we  are  engaged  if  we  do 
really  beheve. 

But  it  is  manifest  to  rac,  that  eating  and  drinking  here  must 
comprehend  more  than  it  doth  in  St.  John ;  for  else  we  shall 

"  'Atop  KTjpvKts  dyavoi  "  Ver.  54. 

'OpKia  mara  0(a>v  rrvvayov,  KprjrrjpL         V  Epist.  14 1,  ad  Csesar.  [al.  epist. 

fie  oivov  viii.  torn.  iii.  p.  84  A.] 
Mlayov. — Horn.  [Iliad.  r'.268.] 


128 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


do  nothing  at  the  Lord's  supper  but  what  we  might  do  at  any 
other  time  as  well.  If  it  be  only  believing  and  mere  spiritual 
eating  that  here  is  exercised,  then  we  may  feed  so  without  this 
food.  And  when  Christ  commands  so  frequently,  Do  this  in 
remembrance  of  me,  it  would  be  no  more  sense  than  if  he  had 
said,  "  Do  this,  which  yet  you  may  do  without  doing  this." 

This  eating  and  drinking  therefore  must  be  a  profession  of 
our  faith ;  a  covenanting  solemnly  with  God,  and  a  receiving 
and  giving  of  those  pledges  of  love  which  we  cannot  have  any 
where  else. 

V.  And  indeed  the  old  Christians  did  so  sacredly  bind  them- 
selves hereby  to  their  Saviour,  that  heathens  Avere  ready  to 
suspect  them  of  dangerous  combinations,  and  such  conspiracies 
as  might  prove  mischievous  to  the  commonwealth.  From  which 
imputation  whilst  Phny  doth  acquit  them,  he  hkewise  instructs 
us  for  what  end  they  met  together  at  this  feast.  "  They  as- 
semble themselves,"  saith  he  in  a  letter  to  Trajan  the  emperor 
"  before  day-break,  and  sing  a  hymn  to  Christ  as  if  he  were 
God,  and  then  they  do  sacramento  se  ohstringere,  '  bind  them- 
selves with  a  sacrament  or  oath,' "  not  that  they  will  do  mischief 
to  any,  but  "  that  they  will  not  rob  or  steal,  nor  commit  adul- 
tery, nor  falsify  their  words,  nor  deny  their  trust,  &c.  And 
then,  after  they  have  eat  together,  they  depart  to  their  own 
homes."  Of  more  than  this  they  protested  to  him  he  should 
never  find  them  guilty.  And  this  was  the  crime  of  Christians 
in  those  first  ages,  to  engage  themselves  to  commit  no  crime; 
which  they  bound  themselves  unto  by  this  saci-ament  of  Christ's 
body  and  blood. 

The  Greek  Christians  at  this  day,  when  they  take  the  bread 
or  cup  into  their  hands,  make  this  profession :  "  Lord,  I  will 
not  give  thee  a  kiss  Hke  Judas,  but  I  do  confess  unto  thee  like 
the  poor  thief,  and  beseech  thee  to  remember  me  when  thy 
kingdom  comes  If  we  do  touch  the  body  of  Christ  with 
traitorous  lips,  and  embrace  him  with  a  false  heart,  we  stain 
our  souls  with  the  guilt  of  that  blood  which  can  only  wash 
them  from  all  their  other  sins.  And  therefore  we  must  come 
unfeignedly  to  bewail  our  neglects,  and  to  settle  our  former 
resolutions  of  strict  obedience.   It  is  grown  even  to  a  proverb 

z  L.  X.  Epist.  97. 

a  Christoph.  Angelas,  Rit.  Eccles.  Graec.  [cap.  23.  p.  348.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  129 

(as  Joseph  Acosta'*  relates)  among  the  poor  Indians  who  have 
entertained  the  faith,  that  Qui  eucharistiam  semel  susceperit, 
nullum  amplius  crimen  debet  committere,  '  he  must  never  be 
guilty  more  of  any  crime  who  hath  once  received  the  eucha- 
rist.'  And  if  they  chance  to  commit  any,  they  bewail  it  with 
such  a  sorrow  and  compunction,  that  (he  saith)  he  hath  not 
found  such  faith,  no,  not  in  Israel.  But  it  would  be  very  sad 
if  we  should  be  sent  to  school  as  far  as  India.  There  are,  I 
make  no  doubt,  many  pious  souls  among  ourselves,  that  look 
upon  it  as  a  blessed  opportunity  to  knit  their  hearts  in  greater 
love  to  God,  and  that  are  more  afflicted  for  an  evil  thought 
after  such  engagements  than  other  are  for  a  base  and  un- 
worthy action. 

Whensoever  therefore  we  come  to  celebrate  the  memory  of 
Christ's  death  in  this  manner,  we  must  remember  with  our- 
selves that  we  are  assembled  for  to  renew  our  baptismal  vow 
and  league,  and  in  the  devoutest  manner  to  addict  ourselves  to 
a  more  constant  love  and  service  of  the  Lord  Jesus.  We  must 
look  upon  this  feast  to  which  we  are  admitted  as  a  disclaiming 
of  all  enmity  to  him,  and  a  profession  of  our  continuing  a 
hearty  friendship,  so  as  never  to  do  any  hostile  act  against 
him.  And  thence  indeed  it  is  called  a  sacrament  (according 
to  Tertullian<=  and  others  with  him) ;  because  we  here  take 
an  oath  to  continue  Christ's  faithful  soldiers,  and  never  to  do 
any  thing  against  his  crown  and  dignity  as  long  as  there  re- 
mains any  breath  in  our  bodies.  We  do  repeat  our  oath  of 
allegiance,  and  swear  fealty  again  to  him,  or  (as  we  ordinarily 
speak)  we  "  take  the  sacrament  upon  it,"  that  we  will  be 
Christ's  faithful  servants  and  soldiers,  against  the  devil,  world, 
and  flesh,  and  never  fly  from  his  service. 

Every  act  of  sin  then  after  such  promises,  is  not  only  treason, 
but  perjury  ;  not  only  the  breaking  of  our  faith,  but  of  our 
oath ;  yea,  not  only  the  violation  of  a  simple  oath,  but  of  oath 
upon  oath;  which  we  ought  more  to  dread  than  we  do  to 
break  our  bones. 

We  esteem  it  an  impiety  of  a  high  nature,  for  a  minister  to 
give  a  cup  of  poison  into  a  man's  hand  instead  of  the  blood  of 

De  procur.  Ind.  salut.  lib.  vi.  vivi,  jam  turn  cum  in  sacramenti 

[cap.  9.  p.  544.]  verba  respondiraus.  —  TertuU.  ad 

c  [Vocati  sumus  ad  militiam  Dei  Mart.  cap.  3.  p.  138  A.] 
PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  K 


130 


Mensa  Mystica  :  or, 


Christ ;  and  we  do  deservedly  abhor  that  priest  who  poisoned 
pope  Victor  tlie  Third  with  the  sacrament  ;  and  him  that  poi- 
soned Henry  the  Seventh  emperor,  turning  (as  Nauclerus  his 
phrase  is«)  "  the  cup  of  life  into  the  cup  of  death."  But 
whilst  our  hearts  swell  in  indignation  at  such  a  crime,  let  us 
consider  with  ourselves  what  a  treasonable  act  it  is  to  poison 
our  souls  with  om-  own  hands,  and  by  a  base  treachery  to  God 
to  swallow  down  cm-ses  and  woes  into  ourselves.  Better  were 
it  for  us  to  be  choked  with  the  bread  of  life,  or  to  feel  the 
venom  of  asps  boiling  in  our  veins  after  the  holy  cup,  than  to 
take  an  oath  which  we  take  small  care  to  keep ;  than  to  go  on 
in  a  course  of  sin,  after  such  sacred  professions  of  our  duty  and 
service  unto  Christ.  We  are  amazed  to  hear  that  men  can 
touch  the  Gospels  before  a  magistrate,  and  kiss  the  book,  or  lift 
up  their  hand  to  heaven,  and  yet  make  good  never  a  word 
that  they  swear.  We  are  apt  to  think,  that  either  these  men 
have  no  souls,  or  that  they  do  not  value  them  at  the  price  of  a 
rotten  nut.  0  let  our  very  flesh  then  tremble  to  think  that  we 
should  lay  our  hand  upon  the  body  of  Christ,  and  take  it  into 
our  very  mouths,  and  solemnly  swear  unto  him,  and  yet  not  be 
faithful  in  his  covenant,  nor  heartily  endeavour  to  perform  our 
promises  unto  him.  For  there  is  no  forsworn  person  hath  such 
a  black  soul,  as  he  whose  soul  is  fouled  even  by  the  blood  of 
Christ  himself,  which  washes  the  souls  of  othei'^.  The  world 
cannot  but  shrink  at  the  thoughts  of  that  fearful  act  of  one  of 
the  popes,  who  making  a  league  with  Caesar  and  the  French 
king,  divided  the  bread  of  the  sacrament  into  three  parts,  with 
this  saying  (scarce  tolerable) :  "As  the  holy  Trinity  is  but  one 
God,  so  let  the  union  endure  between  us  three  confederates 
and  yet  he  was  the  first  that  broke  it,  and  started  from  the 
agreement.  Far  be  it  from  us  then  after  tliis  action  wherein 
we  join  ourselves  to  God,  and  unite  our  hearts  to  fear  his  name, 
and  become  as  it  were  one  with  him,  to  rescind  our  covenants, 
or  stand  again  at  terms  of  defiance.  But  let  us  have  a  care  to 
observe  this  vow  far  more  rehgiously  than  we  do  an  oath  to 
any  mortal  man,  which  yet  no  person  of  credit  and  conscience 
woidd  break  for  all  the  world. 

<i  [Naucler.  in  Chron.  Gen.  37.  e  Venenum  sub  specie  sacramenti 
fol.  164  a.  ex  Martino  Polono  in  dedit,  vertens  calicem  vitae  in  calicem 
A.D.  1087.]  mortis.  [Chron.  Gen.44.  fol.  246a.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


131 


A  PRAYER. 

I  acknowledge  with  all  thankfulness,  O  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
that  as  I  ana  thine  by  having  received  my  being  from  thee,  so  I  was 
early  devoted  and  engaged  to  thee  in  a  solemn  covenant ;  by  which  I 
stand  bound  to  do  thee  all  faithful  service. 

I  have  too  much  neglected  it,  I  confess,  and  have  presumed  to 
dispose  of  myself  according  to  ray  own  will  and  pleasure ;  when  I 
ought  to  have  had  no  other  thoughts  but  what  would  be  pleasing 
unto  Thee. 

And  yet,  such  is  thy  goodness,  thou  art  not  willing  to  let  me  be 
undone  by  following  the  devices  and  desires  of  my  own  heart ;  but 
invitest  me  to  come  and  renew  my  covenant  with  thee ;  and,  sorrow- 
fully bewailing  what  is  past,  to  resolve  to  be  more  firm  and  steadfast 
in  my  duty  for  the  time  to  come. 

That  is  the  desire  of  my  soul,  O  Lord,  which  thou  (blessed  be  thy 
name  for  it)  hast  wrought  in  me.  Which  encourages  me  to  hope, 
that  thou  wilt  make  me  so  sensible  of  my  obligations  to  thee,  when  I 
commemorate  the  dying  love  of  our  Saviour  for  me,  that  I  shall 
never  hereafter  start  from  thee ;  who  tiest  me  unto  thee  in  the 
strictest  bonds  of  love  and  friendship,  and  layest  such  obligations 
upon  me  as  infinitely  excel  all  others  that  I  can  receive  from  any  in 
this  world. 

For  thou  hast  already  given  thy  blessed  Son  to  be  a  sacrifice  for 
me ;  and  now  thou  invitest  me  to  partake  of  that  sacrifice,  and  to 
feast  upon  his  body  and  blood ;  that  Christ  may  dwell  in  me  and  I 
in  him;  that  he  may  be  one  with  me  and  I  with  him. 

O  how  great,  how  precious  is  this  grace,  which  thou  vouchsafest 
to  me  !  How  freely  ought  1  to  give  myself  to  him,  to  be  his  entirely. 
How  careful  ought  I  to  be,  never  to  revolt  from  him !  but  to  keep 
my  faith  with  him,  and  abide  in  his  love,  by  continuing  firm  and  un- 
moveable  in  his  obedience. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  do  any  thing  contrary  to  my  holy  religion ; 
and  to  those  sacred  bonds  that  are  upon  me,  and  wherein  I  am  going 
to  engage  myself  again,  as  I  ought  to  do,  with  the  most  forward  af- 
fection and  devotion  to  him. 

For  what  greater  happiness  can  be  conceived,  than  to  be  a  friend 
of  God,  a  confederate  with  Christ;  an  habitation  of  the  Holy  Ghost; 
and  to  be  bound  by  living  in  perfect  agreement  with  his  holy  will 
here,  to  live  with  him  in  endless  love  in  the  other  world. 

For  which  I  beseech  thee  to  prepare  me  by  holy  communion  with 

K  a 


Mensa  Mystica  :  or, 

thee  at  present,  and  at  last  to  translate  me,  according  to  thy  gracious 
covenant  with  us,  into  thy  heavenly  kingdom,  through  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord.    To  whom,  &c. 


CHAP.  IV. 

It  is  further  here  considered  as  a  sign  and  seal  of  remission 
of  sin.  Which  is  cleared  in  three  considerations :  First, 
from  the  express  words  of  our  Saviour  in  the  institution  of 
this  sacrament.  Secondly,  from  tJie  solemn  act  of  charity 
and  forgiveness  ivhich  here  we  are  bound  to  exercise.  But 
especially  {thirdly)  from  this ;  that  we  eat  of  the  sin-offer- 
ing, and  of  that  which  was  not  made  for  one,  hut  for  many, 
i.  e.  the  whole  congregation.  How  the  sacrament  is  a  seal  of 
the  covenant  of  grace.  And  what  assurance  may  he  at- 
tained of  our  being  pardoned. 

To  all  those  that  are  thus  faithfully  in  covenant  with  him, 
this  sacrament  is  a  further  sign  and  seal  of  remission  of  sin. 

For  the  law  of  covenants  doth  require,  that  where  one  party- 
doth  profess  friendship,  and  engage  to  fidehty,  the  other  person 
in  the  agreement  should  make  assurance  of  his  love,  and  con- 
firm his  promises.  And  therefore  when  we  come  with  hearts 
full  of  love  to  renew  our  friendship  with  God,  we  may  beheve 
that  he  doth  embrace  us  also  with  the  dearest  affection,  and 
giveth  us  greater  testimonies  that  he  hath  cancelled  all  the 
bonds  wherein  we  stood  indebted  to  him :  bonds  able  to  break 
the  whole  world,  if  payment  were  exacted ;  debts  which  all 
men  and  angels  cannot  possibly  discharge ;  which  yet  he  is  so 
willing  to  acquit  us  of,  that  he  hath  appointed  this  holy  action 
for  that  end,  that  we  may  have  more  pledges  for  his  love,  and 
more  assurances  that  we  are  not  bound  over  to  eternal  punish- 
ment. Well  may  we  run  into  the  arms  of  Christ  where  we 
expect  to  receive  such  favours.  It  is  no  wonder  if  we  be  for- 
ward to  tie  ourselves  fast  to  God  (as  I  said  in  the  last  chapter)^ 
when  he  binds  himself  as  fast  to  us.  We  need  not  stand  so 
much  upon  it  to  promise  even  to  die  for  him,  when  it  is  but  the 
way  to  life.  We  may  be  glad  to  lie  in  the  wounds  of  Christ, 
when  we  find  a  cure  there  for  our  sins.  A  crucified  Saviour 
should  be  most  dear  unto  us,  and  we  should  most  joyfully  kiss 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  133 

his  cross ;  seeing  we  hope  thereby  to  have  our  iniquities  crossed 
out,  and  stand  no  longer  upon  our  account. 

Methinks  all  that  hear  of  such  a  covenant  of  grace  should  be 
desirous  to  enter  into  it  (and  so  they  wovdd  if  they  had  not  as 
trifling  conceits  of  the  evil  of  sin  as  they  have  of  the  worth  of 
their  souls).  And  all  that  are  in  that  covenant  should  be  glad 
of  an  opportunity  to  reiterate  it,  that  they  may  have  stronger 
grounds  whereon  to  hope  for  pardon.  And  it  is  to  be  acknow- 
ledged to  the  singular  mercy  of  God,  that  we  can  never  come 
to  profess  any  love  to  him,  but  he  •will  return  back  a  great 
deal  more  to  us ;  and  that  when  we  give  thanks  to  him,  he  will 
give  us  more  cause  to  thank  him. 

Now  for  the  full  clearing  of  this  thing,  I  shall  propound  but 
these  three  considerations : 

I.  That  our  Saviour  in  the  institution  of  this  sacrament  doth 
tell  us  what  was  a  great  end  of  it,  when  he  saith,  This  cup  is 
the  new  testament  in  my  bhod^ ;  or.  This  is  my  blood  of  the 
new  testament,  which  is  shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of 
sinss.  In  which  speech  you  must  note,  that  the  word  this  doth 
stand  for  the  action  of  giving  and  receiving,  not  for  that  which 
is  given  and  received  in  and  by  it ;  for  the  cup  or  the  blood 
cannot  be  a  testament  or  covenant,  but  the  giving  and  receiving 
of  the  cup  or  blood  is ;  and  therefore  by  This  is  the  new  testa- 
ment, &c.  must  be  meant,  This  action  is  a  covenant  between 
you  and  me,  made  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  for  the  forgiveness 
of  your  sins. 

The  doing  of  this  doth  necessarily  presuppose  a  covenant  of 
grace  which  God  hath  made,  and  which  we  own  in  Christ's 
blood ;  but  besides,  it  doth  import  a  profession  (both  on  God's 
part,  and  on  ours  who  do  receive)  of  performing  and  making 
good  that  which  we  are  respectively  bound  unto ;  so  that  God 
doth  there  tender  all  that  which  he  promiseth  in  the  gospel, 
and  we  by  receiving  do  bind  ourselves  (as  you  have  seen)  to  all 
the  gospel  commands.  Now  this  is  the  great  thing  which  God 
promiseth  in  his  covenant,  /  will  be  merciful  to  their  unright- 
eousness ;  and  tlieir  sins  and  their  iniquities  will  I  remember 
no  more^. 

This  action  therefore  is  appointed  by  him,  not  only  to  be  a 

^  Luke  xxii.  20.  s  Matth.  xxvi.  28. 

[Hebr.  viii.  12,  x.  17 ;  Jer.  xxxi.  34.] 


134 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


symbol  of  his  sufferings  which  did  ratify  the  covenant  of  for- 
giveness, but  to  be  an  exhibition  of  himself,  for  to  put  us  in 
possession  of  the  great  thing  purchased  by  his  blood,  which 
was  pardon  to  all  penitent  sinners. 

The  blood  of  the  paschal  lamb  (as  St.  Chrysostom  observes 
was  shed  ds  amTrjpCav  tQv  TTp(»T0T6Kcav,  '  for  the  saving  of  the 
first-born'  of  Israel,  but  Christ's  blood  (who  is  our  Passover) 
was  shed  for  the  remission  of  the  sin  Tyjs  olKovtiivr]s  TTAa-rji,  *  of 
the  whole  world.'  Now  though  the  shedding  of  the  blood,  and 
sprinkUng  of  it  on  the  door-posts,  were  the  cause  of  the  deli- 
verance ;  yet  their  eating  of  the  lamb  was  that  which  did  en- 
title them  to  it,  and  gave  them  a  right  to  that  salvation.  So 
though  the  blood  of  Jesus  shed  upon  the  tree  be  that  which 
procures  the  pardon,  and  be  the  price  of  our  redemption ;  yet 
that  remission  is  solemnly  exhibited  and  given  unto  us,  or  (as 
we  speak)  applied  to  our  persons,  by  the  eating  of  this  bread, 
and  drinking  of  this  cup,  which  are  as  effectual  as  a  deed  or 
instrument  for  the  conveying  of  this  mercy  unto  us.  We  may 
see  this  well  explained  to  our  hands  by  an  ancient  author. 
"  The  sacrament,"  saith  Bernard',  "  is  a  sacred  sign  or  secret, 
as  may  be  illustrated  by  a  common  example.  If  I  give  a  ring 
to  a  friend,  it  hath  no  other  significancy  but  that  I  love  him ; 
but  if  I  give  him  a  ring  ad  investiendum  de  hcereditate  aliqua, 
'  thereby  to  invest  him  in  the  right  of  some  inheritance,'  then 
it  is  both  a  ring  and  a  sign  also."  In  like  manner,  though 
bread  and  wine  set  before  us  do  denote  nothing  more  than  the 
kindness  of  a  friend  that  would  refresh  us ;  yet  given  and 
taken  as  a  rehgious  rite,  and  in  token  of  a  covenant,  they  are 
turned  into  another  thing,  and  are  both  bread  and  wine,  and 
likewise  the  instrument  of  a  conveyance.  And  this  is  the 
change  which  the  ancients  mention  of  the  bread  and  wine  into 
the  body  and  blood  of  Christ :  a  change,  not  in  the  substance, 
but  in  the  accidents ;  not  in  their  nature,  but  in  their  use ;  not 
in  any  natural  quaUty,  but  in  their  significancy,  apphcation, 
and  divine  efficacy.  As  when  the  wax  is  imprinted  and  made  a 
seal,  or  silver  stamped  and  made  a  coin,  they  remain  the  same 
in  substance,  and  yet  are  changed  in  regard  of  their  use  and 
value  also ;  so  it  is  with  the  bread  and  wine  when  they  are 

*i  In  Matth.  xxvi.  [Horn.  Ixxxii.  §  i.  torn.  vii.  p.  782  E. 
'  Seim.  de  Ccena.  [vol.  i.  col.  890  E.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


135 


offered  unto  God,  and  delivered  by  him  again  to  us,  and  re- 
ceived as  a  representation  of  the  Lord  Jesus :  they  continue 
what  they  were,  if  we  look  only  at  their  matter ;  but  are 
changed  by  God's  appointment  into  divine  things,  if  we  respect 
the  end  to  which  they  are  applied,  which  is  to  make  over  to  us 
the  blessing  of  the  covenant,  viz.  remission  of  sins. 

This  is  all  that  Theodoret"*  means  by  his  jxeTdhka^is  or 

*  transmutation,'  and  Cyril '  by  his  jxerafioXr},  '  change  of  one 
thing  into  another;'  and  Nyssen*"  by  his  iJLiTa-noLrjais,  'trans- 
lation;' or  Theophylact"  by  his  great  word  fxeraoroixeiwo-t?, 

*  transelementation.'  For  that  this  last  word  doth  not  amount 
to  a  change  of  one  substance  into  another,  we  may  be  clearly 
satisfied  from  himself;  who,  as  he  saith,  the  bread  is  '  trans- 
elementated  into  Christ's  body ;'  so  likewise  affirms  that  we 
are  '  transelementated  into  Christ".'  Now  as  by  this  latter 
expression  he  can  intend  no  more  but  our  mystical  incorpo- 
ration with  him,  so  by  the  former  nothing  else  is  to  be  under- 
stood but  the  conversion  of  the  bread  to  another  use,  so  that 
in  effect  it  is  made  the  body  of  Christ. 

In  short,  he  that  hath  the  picture  of  a  king  in  his  chamber 
hath  but  a  bare  sign  which  may  make  him  think  of  him,  and 
no  more :  but  he  that  hath  the  king's  great  seal,  which  con- 
firms him  in  the  possession  of  all  the  land  he  enjoys,  hath  his 
picture  and  sometliing  else  that  comes  along  with  it,  which 
instates  him  in  a  real  good.  And  though  the  wax  aflSxed  to 
the  writing  be  the  same  for  substance  with  that  which  is  in  a 
man's  shop,  yet  for  virtue  (as  it  is  made  use  of)  it  is  much  dif- 
ferent, and  far  better  than  all  the  wax  that  a  whole  country 
can  afford.  Even  so  it  is  in  this  case  before  us ;  bread  broken, 
and  wine  poured  out,  are  but  bare  signs  of  Christ's  sufferings, 
if  we  consider  them  nakedly  in  themselves :  but  if  we  look  on 
them  as  a  federal  rite,  and  as  they  are  given  to  us,  and  eaten 
and  drunken  by  us  in  remembrance  of  the  death  of  Christ,  so 
they  are  seals  and  further  confirmations  of  God's  great  love 

k  [Dial.  i.  torn.  iv.  p.  26 ;  dial.  ii.  Johan.  vi.  p.  654  A.    On  these  and 

p.  126.]  similar  passages,  and  the  use  made 

'  [Catech.  xxii.  Mystag.  iv.  cap.  2.  of  them  by  Bellarmine,  De  Euchar. 

p.  320.]  lib.  ii.  cap.  13,   see  the  observa- 

[Oral.  Catech.  cap.  37.  torn.  iii.  tions   of  Cosin,   Hist,   of  T:an- 

p.  102.]  subst.  cap.  6.  p.  209.] 

"  [In  Luc.  xxiv.  p.  544  B.  el  in  °  Els  Xpiarov  ^leTaoTOixttovaOai. 


136 


Mema  Mystica :  or. 


towards  us.  And  though  they  are  still  the  same  for  substance 
with  the  most  common  bread  and  wine  which  we  use  at  our 
meals,  yet  in  regard  of  the  use  to  which  now  they  are  con- 
verted, they  become  sacred  and  of  great  virtue  to  convey  unto 
us  the  things  expressed  in  the  covenant,  which  are  of  more 
worth  than  all  the  world. 

II.  It  is  further  manifest  that  we  are  hereby  confirmed  in 
the  state  of  pardon  and  forgiveness,  because  we  do  here  put 
forth  the  most  solemn  act  of  charity  and  forgiveness  to  all  our 
enemies.  For  it  is  a  feast  of  love  (as  you  shall  see  afterwards), 
and  this  is  the  very  condition  upon  wliich  our  forgiveness 
depends,  that  we  forgive  others  p  ;  and  therefore  when  we  here 
pray  for  all  men,  and  put  away  all  enmity  out  of  our  hearts, 
never  to  return  any  more,  God  is  engaged  to  express  himself 
to  us  as  a  friend,  and  to  let  fall  all  differences  that  have  been  be- 
tween him  and  us.  I  know  that  we  are  never  to  harbour  any 
hatred  in  our  hearts,  and  that  we  cannot  pray  successfully  at  any 
time,  unless  we  hft  up  pure  hands  without  wrath  ;  and  I  like- 
wise wish  the  doctrines  of  love  were  most  frequently  and  se- 
verely pressed  and  practised ;  but  yet  there  is  no  time  when 
we  do  more  narrowly  search  ourselves  to  find  out  the  relics  of 
that  sour  leaven,  and  when  we  are  more  powerfully  moved  to 
extinguish  even  the  least  sparks  or  seeds  of  fire  that  are  in  our 
souls,  than  when  we  consider  Christ's  death,  and  remember 
how  he  prayed  for  his  enemies  upon  the  cross.  And  therefore 
I  conceive  that  upon  this  account  the  sacrament  of  Christ's 
body  and  blood  may  be  a  means  of  assuring  our  pardon,  and 
strengthening  of  our  title  to  forgiveness.  But  notwithstanding 
I  consider  with  myself,  that  this  duty  of  pardoning  others  is 
not  so  peculiar  to  this  sacrament,  but  that  it  may  and  must  be 
done  (as  I  said)  at  all  other  times ;  and  for  that  cause  I  shall 
pass  it  by,  and  proceed  to  that  which  I  would  have  most  of  all 
observed  for  the  understanding  of  this  part  of  my  discourse, 
and  that  is  this  : 

III.  This  eating  and  drinking  is  a  feast  upon  a  sin-offering, 
and  therefore  is  a  greater  pledge  of  remission  of  sin.  That 
you  may  conceive  of  this  aright,  it  must  be  remembered,  that 
though  the  people  of  Israel  used  to  feast  upon  their  peace- 


P  Matth.  vi.  14, 15. 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  137 

offerings  which  were  made  at  the  altar  (as  hath  been  said 
already),  yet  they  were  not  Emitted  to  eat  of  any  else.  The 
whole  burnt-offerings  indeed  had  peace-offerings  attending 
alway  upon  them  ;  and  so  they  did  partake  of  the  altar,  when 
they  were  offered,  by  eating  of  the  latter  ;  but  of  the  former 
none  tasted  but  God  himself.  The  offerings  for  sin  (as  you 
have  seen)  were  the  portion  of  the  priests,  and  the  people  were 
excluded  from  them,  unless  you  will  say  that  they  eat  by  them 
as  their  substitutes  and  mediators  :  but  now  you  must  further 
note,  that  though  the  priests  were  to  eat  of  the  sin-offering  for 
particular  persons,  yet  of  the  sacrifice  made  for  the  sin  of  the 
whole  congregation,  whose  blood  was  carried  into  the  holy 
place,  the  priests  themselves  might  not  eat  (and  so  consequently 
not  the  people  by  them),  but  they  were  to  burn  its  flesh  with- 
out the  camp.  And  whether  it  were  upon  the  day  of  general 
atonements,  or  at  any  other  time  when  the  whole  congregation 
had  committed  a  sin  through  ignorance  f,  that  an  offering  was 
to  be  made  for  them ;  they  were  not  permitted  to  have  the 
least  share  of  it.  Now  Christ  made  his  soul  an  offering  for 
sin^,  and  such  an  offering,  that  with  his  blood  he  entered  into 
the  holy  place,  and  suffered  without  the  camp,  and  therefore 
was  most  illustriously  set  forth  by  that  sacrifice,  which  was  for 
the  whole  congregation.  According  then  to  the  law,  none  was 
to  feed  upon  the  sacrifice ;  and  yet  our  Lord  hath  indulged 
unto  us  the  privilege  of  feasting  upon  this  great  sacrifice  of 
propitiation ;  according  as  the  very  words  of  the  institution  of 
this  sacrament  do  intimate,  when  our  Saviour  saith,  This  is  the 
blood  of  tJie  New  Testament  which  is  shed  for  many^,  i.  e. 
which  is  like  to  the  sacrifice  on  the  great  day  of  atonement, 
which  was  not  made  for  one  person,  but  for  the  whole  congre- 
gation; and  of  this  I  give  you  leave  to  drink.  This  was  a 
favour  never  granted  to  the  world  before ;  and  besides  what 
the  law  of  Moses  speaks^  it  is  remarkable  what  is  delivered  by 
Porphyry,  as  the  sense  of  all  the  heathen  divines  in  the  world, 
Tl&vm  ev  rovrw  (^ixoXoyrjcrav  o'l  deoXoyoi,  (as  ovre  aTTriov  kv  tois 
dTTOT-poTraiois  OvaiaLs  rcav  Ovofj-ivuiv  ^ '  '  All  divines  consent  in  this, 
that  it  is  not  lawful  to  touch  so  much  as  a  bit  of  those  sacrifices 
which  are  for  the  averting  of  wrath.'    Though  it  was  never 

1  Lev.  xvi.  27.  s  iga.  \\\\^  jq.       t  Mark  xiv.  24. 

lb.  iv.  1.3,  21.  vi.  30.  "  L.  2.  nipl  dnox-  [§  44  ] 


138 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


lawful  (you  know)  to  eat  the  blood  of  any  sacrifice,  whether 
peace-offering  or  other  (but  it  was  to  be  poured  out  at  the 
altar) ;  and  though  the  flesh  of  those  that  were  offered  for  sin 
by  the  laws  of  all  people  were  not  to  be  tasted,  yet  we  may 
drink  the  blood  of  the  sacrifice,  yea  of  this  great  sacrifice  for 
all  the  people,  and  we  may  eat  the  flesh  of  it  by  the  command 
of  om"  Saviour.  Tliis  thing  sure  must  contain  in  it  some  great 
mystery :  for  the  apostle  seems  to  take  notice  of  it,  when  he 
saith,  We  have  an  altar  ivhereof  they  have  no  right  to  eat 
which  serve  the  tabernacle^,  &c.  Altar  in  this  place  is  by  a 
metomTny  put  for  a  sacrifice,  and  the  same  sense  of  the  apo- 
stle's discourse  in  that  and  the  foUowino-  verses  is  this :  "  Go 
out  of  the  synagogue,  and  never  meddle  with  the  Jewish  reh- 
gion,  though  you  may  endiu'e  persecution  by  them  as  Christ 
did  ;  for  you  enjoy  this  special  privilege,  of  eating  of  the  sacri- 
fice of  Christ  which  was  made  for  sin  without  the  gate,  and 
whose  blood  was  carried  into  the  holy  place ;  a  thing  which  no 
Jew  could  ever  have  any  right  unto,  in  those  sin-offerings  that 
were  made  among  them."  The  true  intent  of  this  grant  which 
Christ  hath  made  us,  contrary  to  the  manner  of  all  the  world, 
may  be  to  shew  our  union  with  his  sacrifice,  and  that  the 
righteousness  of  it  is  as  truly  imputed  to  us  as  if  we  could 
have  made  satisfaction  ourselves.  And  (as  the  apostle  saith, 
Acts  xiii.  39.)  it  shews  that  we  are  justified  by  him  from  all 
those  things  tchich  we  could  not  be  justified  from  by  the  law  of 
Moses.  This  difference  therefore  is  remarkable  between  the 
legal  sacrifices  and  tliis  representation  of  Christ's  sacrifice :  in 
them  was  made  avaiivria-L's  a^apTiav,  'a  commemoration  of  sin' 
every  year^ ;  they  were  a  plain  confession  of  sin  that  it  re- 
mained still  in  force,  and  that  they  could  not  take  it  away,  else 
they  needed  not  to  have  been  repeated ;  and  so  St.  Chry- 
sostomX  saith  very  elegantly,  "  The  legal  sacrifices  were  rather 
accusations  than  expiations:  a  confession  of  their  weakness 
rather  than  a  profession  of  theu"  strength because,  as  the 
apostle  saith,  they  were  a  remembrance  that  sin  still  was  in 
power.  But  this  s;icrifice  of  which  we  partake  is  an  avdiMinja-is, 
a  '  commemoration '  of  the  remission  of  sins ;  a  remembrance 

Heb.  xiii.  10.  lb.  X.  3.       afrdtvi'ias,  ovk   '(txvos  arrodei^is. — 

>'  Karqyopla  afMpTTifiaTOiv,  ov  Xv-  Hom.  xni.  in  Hebr.  [§  3.  torn.  xii. 
(Tis  afxapTTjftaTQ}!'  7  dvcrla,  Karrjyopia     p.  1 68  A.J 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  139 

that  it  is  quite  taken  away,  and  hath  quite  lost  all  its  strength ; 
and  so,  seeing  Christ  hath  made  a  perfect  satisfaction,  though 
they  might  not  eat,  yet  we  may  of  the  sacrifice  of  expiation. 
They  might  not,  because  sin  was  acknowledged  thereby  to 
remain ;  we  may,  because  by  Christ's  sacrifice  to  make  ex- 
piation it  is  abolished  and  utterly  destroyed,  so  as  to  have  no 
force  to  obUge  us  unto  punishment.  And  if  that  be  true  which 
is  deUvered  in  Pirke  Eliezer^  and  other  books,  that  Abraham 
was  circumcised  on  the  day  of  expiation and  that  this  day 
was  a  remembrance  of  the  covenant  of  circumcision,  then  it  is 
still  more  clear  that  only  by  the  new  covenant  forgiveness 
could  be  obtained ;  for  the  greatest  of  their  sacrifices  (accord- 
ing to  the  apostle)  made  a  remembrance  of  sins,  and  not  of  the 
forgiveness  of  them. 

To  shut  up  this,  then,  you  may  thus  take  a  very  brief  sum 
of  it.  Before  the  flood  they  only  offered  holocausts  or  whole 
burnt-offerings  (for  then  they  eat  no  flesh).  After  the  flood 
they  sacrificed  peace-oflFerings  also  for  mercies  which  they  re- 
ceived ;  and  these  they  all  eat  of.  But  we  read  of  no  sin-offer- 
ing till  the  law  was  given ;  and  those  the  priests  only  eat  of, 
but  not  of  all.  Till  the  Gospel  came  never  did  any  eat  of  a  sin- 
offering  that  was  carried  within  the  veil  to  reconcile  withal ; 
but  now  both  priest  and  people  partake  of  it.  We  are  all 
made  priests  unto  God^  in  this  regard,  that  as  the  priests  of 
old  had  the  favour  to  eat  of  the  sin-offerings,  so  have  all  the 
people  of  God  now,  by  communicating  of  the  body  and  blood 
of  Clirist,  who  offered  up  himself  unto  God  for  us.  And  it 
must  be  added,  that  we  are  more  than  priests,  even  kings  and 
priests,  or  a  royal  j^riestliood'^ :  for  there  is  nothing  denied 
unto  us,  and  we  have  power  to  eat  of  that  which  the  high  priest 
himself  might  not  taste  of,  which  is  the  sacrifice  of  general 
atonement,  whose  flesh  was  burnt  without  the  camp.  And  if 
we  well  consider  we  shall  see  that  they  had  no  reason  to  feast 
upon  it,  seeing  the  guilt  did  still  remain  which  their  sacrifice 
could  not  remove  ;  but  that  we  have,  because  our  offering  for 
sin  hath  made  a  complete  expiation,  and  given  us  the  greatest 
ground  of  joy  and  peace.    Now,  by  our  eating  of  it,  we  must 


2  [Cap.  29.  p.  64.] 
*  Gen.  xvii.  26. 


Rev.  i.  6,  v.  10. 
<=  I  Pet.  ii.  9. 


140 


Mensa  Mystica :  or. 


needs  be  concluded  to  partake  even  of  that  altar,  and  so  to 
have  remission  of  sin. 

To  draw,  then,  this  chapter  to  a  conclusion :  if  we  take  a 
review  of  what  hath  been  said  in  this  and  the  foregoing  dis- 
course, we  may  be  sufficiently  informed  what  divines  mean 
when  they  say,  that  the  sacrament  is  a  seal  of  the  covenant  of 
grace.  We  set  our  seal  to  it  as  we  give  up  ourselves  to  God, 
and  God  sets  his  seal  again  to  it  by  delivering  the  body  and 
blood  of  his  Son  to  us.  The  death  of  Christ  there  represented 
and  communicated  to  us  doth  seal  to  us  pardon  of  our  sin  and 
all  blessings,  if  we  do  heartily  set  our  seal  to  the  counterpart, 
and  by  taking  and  receiving  Christ  under  these  signs,  promise 
and  engage  most  firmly  to  lead  a  life  according  to  his  will  re- 
vealed to  us.  God  seals  when  he  gives,  and  we  seal  when  we 
receive.  K  we  mean  as  really  as  he  doth,  then  we  have  a 
right  to  all  things  specified  in  the  covenant.  By  which  you 
may  discern  that  it  is  not  a  seal  that  we  are  pardoned  and  oirr 
sins  are  forgiven,  but  that  God  remains  firm  in  his  purposes  of 
grace,  and  if  we  do  so  too  in  our  purposes  of  obedience,  we 
may  thence  conclude  that  we  are  pardoned.  Our  assurance 
then  of  our  particiilar  pardon  is  a  thing  that  results  from  an- 
other act  of  ours,  which  is  a  serious  comparing  of  our  seal  and 
God's  together,  or  a  reflecting  upon  what  we  and  God  have 
done.  When  we  know  our  own  sincerity  and  heartiness  in  our 
profession,  as  we  are  assured  of  God's  reality  and  truth  in 
what  he  promiseth,  then  we  may  conclude  well  of  ourselves, 
and  rest  assured  of  a  pardon. 

Yet  our  pardon  is  not  sealed  so  certainly  as  God  seals  the 
covenant,  because  the  certainty  that  we  have  in  ourselves  of 
our  being  pardoned,  relies  upon  a  thing  far  more  dubious  than 
the  certainty  we  have  that  God  will  pardon.  Our  judgment 
concerning  ourselves  is  only  an  hiunan  act,  grounded  upon  the 
true  knowledge  of  ourselves,  whereas  our  behef  of  the  promise 
is  a  divine  faith,  grounded  upon  the  word  of  God,  to  which  he 
sets  his  seal ;  and,  therefore,  the  conclusion  we  make  (which 
still  follows  the  weaker  part),  or  the  assurance  we  attain  of  our 
being  pardoned,  can  be  only  an  act  of  human  faith.  It  can 
never  be  so  sure  as  one  of  the  premisses  is,  imless  we  could  be 
as  sure  that  we  say  true  of  ourselves  as  that  God  saith  true  of 
himself.    If  it  were  as  certain  that  I  beheve  as  it  is  that  God 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Stepper.  141 

will  pardon  all  that  believe,  then  the  conclusion  would  be  as 
certain  as  either,  that  therefore  I  am  pardoned.  But  seeing 
the  first  proposition  is  grounded  on  a  fallible  judgment  (and  it 
is  possible  I  may  deceive  myself),  therefore  I  cannot  make  a 
conclusion  of  equal  certainty  with  the  second  proposition,  but 
that  I  am  pardoned  will  be  no  stronger  than  this,  that  I  be- 
lieve. Yet,  notwithstanding,  if  a  man  find  no  cause  to  suspect 
his  own  reaUty,  he  may  have  a  belief  of  his  pardon  free  from 
doubting,  and  may  rest  well  satisfied  that  he  is  in  a  good 
estate,  because  nothing  appears  to  the  contrary,  but  that  he 
sincerely  doth  the  will  of  Christ.  Though  he  attains  unto  this 
persuasion  not  by  a  direct  but  a  reflex  act  of  faith,  i.  e.  not 
merely  by  a  belief  of  God's  Word  (which  nowhere  saith  that  I 
am  pardoned),  but  by  a  serious  examination  of  himself  accord- 
ing to  the  tenor  of  the  word ;  yet  seeing  he  discerns  a  con- 
formity between  himself  and  it,  he  may  have  a  very  good  and 
strong  (though  not  infallible)  assurance  that  his  sins  are  blotted 
out,  and  shall  not  be  imputed  to  him. 

Whensoever,  then,  we  approach  to  the  Lord's  table,  we 
should  come  with  a  behef  that  God  makes  over  unto  us  the 
greatest  blessings,  if  we  receive  them  as  he  requires.  Now  all 
that  he  requires  is,  that  we  would  love  and  obey  him  (as  we 
said  in  the  former  chapter) :  when  we  heartily  engage  to  this, 
we  have  hereby  a  conveyance  made  to  us  of  all  that  heaven 
contains,  which  is  included  in  this  phrase,  forgiveness  of  sin. 
For  you  may  observe  that  in  Scripture-style  the  taking  away 
of  God's  wrath  is  the  doing  of  some  favour.  His  kindnesses 
are  not  mere  negatives  or  removals  of  evil ;  but  when  he  for- 
gives sin,  and  inflicts  not  the  punishment,  he  confers  the  con- 
trary blessing,  and  restores  us  to  the  inheritance. 

A  PRAYER. 

O  Lord,  the  Father  of  mercies,  and  the  God  of  all  consolation, 
who  hast  not  only  most  graciously  promised  forgiveness  to  all  them 
that  with  hearty  repentance  and  true  faith  turn  unto  thee  ;  but  also 
made  a  new  covenant  with  us  in  the  blood  of  Christ,  for  the  remis- 
sion of  sins ;  which  thou  likewise  sealest  to  us  in  the  sacrament  of 
it :  I  most  humbly  l)eseech  thee  to  make  me  thoroughly  sensible  of 
the  greatness  and  the  riches  of  this  grace,  that  so  I  may  neither 
neglect  it  nor  be  unthankful  for  it ;  but  go  unto  that  holy  feast,  to 


142 


Mensa  Mystica  :  or, 


which  thou  invitest  me,  upon  his  body  and  blood,  there  to  present 
myself  unto  thee  with  a  lively  faith  and  unfeigned  repentance ;  and 
then  to  receive  the  assurances  that  thou  wilt  be  merciful  to  my  sins, 
and  remember  them  no  more ;  and  then  to  bless  and  praise  thee  for 
such  strong  assurance  as  thou  hast  given  us  by  the  blood  of  thy 
dear  Son,  who  sacrificed  himself  for  our  sins ;  and  by  making  us 
partakers  of  that  sacrifice,  in  the  commemoration  of  it,  which  thou 
thyself  hast  ordained  for  our  fuller  satisfaction. 

And  what  greater  satisfaction  can  we  have  than  to  be  assured 
that  we  are  reconciled  unto  thee,  and  at  peace  with  thee  ;  and 
thereby  to  be  eased  of  that  intolerable  burden  of  our  sins,  which 
should  it  lie  upon  us,  would  press  us  down  to  hell  ? 

O  make  me  more  deeply  sensible  of  the  weight  of  their  guilt,  that 
so  I  may  the  more  admire  the  exceeding  riches  of  thy  grace,  which 
will  deliver  me  from  that  load. 

For  the  obtaining  of  which  deliverance,  I  ought  to  be  willing  to 
submit  to  anything  which  thou  shalt  demand  of  me  ;  and  to  think 
no  conditions  hard  or  uneasy,  but  be  as  ready  ever  to  forgive  freely, 
even  the  greatest  offences  against  me,  as  I  am  desirous  thou  wouldst 
forgive  all  my  offences  against  thee. 

O  Lord,  dispose  my  soul,  I  beseech  thee,  unto  this  grace,  as  an 
earnest  of  the  other.  Root  out  all  hatred,  enmity,  and  ill  will : 
cleanse  me  so  perfectly  from  the  least  relic  of  them,  and  possess  me 
with  such  hearty  love  and  kindness  towards  all  men,  even  towards 
my  bitterest  enemies,  that  I  may  more  comfortably  expect  to  receive 
perfect  remission  and  forgiveness  from  thee,  by  those  pledges  of  thy 
love  which  I  receive  from  the  hands  of  thy  minister. 

Whose  absolution  here  pronounced  on  earth,  I  beseech  thee, 
ratify  in  heaven  ;  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  lives  for  ever 
to  make  intercession  for  us.  To  whom  with  thee,  O  Father,  and 
the  Holy  Ghost,  be  everlasting  praises.  Amen. 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lm^d's  Supper. 


143 


CHAP.  V. 

It  is  a  means  of  our  nearer  union  with  the  Lord  Jesus.  The 
nature  of  this  union  and  its  effect  is  explained  in  five  con- 
siderations. For  Christ  communicates  his  body  and  blood 
to  us.  We  are  kin  to  him  by  faith  and  love ;  and  receive 
hereby  greater  measures  of  his  Sp>irit,  which  is  the  bond 
of  union ;  and  an  earnest  and  pledge  of  a  happy  resur- 
rection. 

The  distance  being  taken  away  between  God  and  us,  this 
sacrament  must  be  considered  as  a  means  of  our  nearer  union 
with  our  Lord  Christ.  He  doth  not  only  kindly  entertain  us 
when  we  come  to  his  table,  but  he  likewise  knits  and  joins  us 
to  himself.  He  not  only  ties  us  with  cords  of  love,  and  binds 
us  to  his  service  by  favours  and  blessings  conferred  on  us,  but 
in  some  sort  he  makes  us  one  with  him,  and  takes  us  into  a 
nearer  conjunction  than  before  we  enjoyed.  And  who  would 
not  desire  to  be  enfolded  in  his  arms  ?  Who  would  not  repose 
himself  in  his  bosom  ?  But  who  durst  have  presumed  to  enter- 
tain a  thought  of  being  married  unto  him,  and  becoming  one 
with  him  ?  And  yet  who  would  refuse  such  a  favour  now  that 
it  is  ojffered  to  us,  but  they  that  neither  know  him  nor  them- 
selves ? 

This  covenant  into  which  we  enter  is  a  marriage-covenant, 
and  our  Lord  promises  to  be  as  a  husband  to  us,  and  we  choose 
him  as  the  best  beloved  of  our  souls.  It  is  none  of  the  common 
friendships  which  we  contract  with  him  by  eating  and  di'inking 
at  his  table,  but  the  rarest  and  highest  that  can  be  imagined ; 
and  we  are  to  look  upon  this  as  a  marriage-feast.  What  this 
union  then  with  Christ  is,  it  need  not  be  disputed ;  we  may  be 
sure  that  it  is  such  an  one  as  is  between  a  man  and  his  wife, 
the  vine  and  the  branches,  the  head  and  the  members,  the 
building  and  the  foundation  (as  hereafter  will  more  fully  ap- 
pear), yea  far  beyond  all  sorts  of  union,  whether  moral,  natu- 
ral or  artificial,  which  the  world  afi^ords  example  of.  That 
which  I  am  to  shew  is,  that  by  these  sacramental  pledges  of 
his  love,  and  this  communion  with  Christ  our  Lord,  we  are 
faster  tied  unto  him,  and  the  ligaments  are  made  more  strong 


144 


Mensa  Mystica  :  w, 


and  indissoluble  between  us.  This  will  be  manifest  upon  these 
considerations : 

I.  Seeing  we  do  after  a  sort  eat  Christ's  flesh,  and  drink  his 
blood,  we  must  needs  thereby  be  incorporated  further  with 
him.  I  dispute  not  now  in  what  sense  we  eat  and  drink  his 
body  and  blood ;  but  so  far  as  we  grant  that  we  do  that,  so 
far  the  other  is  likewise  done.  Our  union  is  of  the  same  kind 
and  degree  with  our  communion  and  participation.  And  there- 
fore when  the  apostle  speaks  of  a  communion  with  them^,  that 
adhesion  and  cleaving  to  Christ  signifies,  that  in  some  sort  we 
are  made  one  with  him.  So  St.  Chrysostom*!  observes,  that 
the  apostle  usetli  not  the  word  /xerox^,  which  is  '  participation,' 
but  KoivavLo,  '  communion,'  because  he  would  shew  the  near 
conjunction  that  is  between  us,  and  that  we  are  knit  and  united 
to  him  by  this  partaking  of  him.  So  likewise  CEcumenius^ 
upon  the  place  observes,  that  Christ's  blood  uniteth  us  to  him 
as  our  head,  ha  r?)?  \xiTaXri^^€m,  '  by  our  receiving  of  it.'  And 
indeed,  as  it  is  contrary  to  all  analogy  of  speech  to  call  the 
bread  and  wine  by  the  name  of  Christ's  body  and  blood,  if 
they  be  not  at  all  so,  in  like  manner  it  is  incongruous  to  use 
the  phrase  of  eating  and  drinking,  if  there  be  no  union  be- 
tween us  and  that  which  we  eat  and  drink. 

II.  Faith  and  love  bearing  a  great  part  in  this  holy  action, 
and  Christ  being  by  them  embraced,  it  must  needs  be  a  means 
of  our  nearer  union.  For  union  (you  know)  begins  in  our 
consent  unto  him ;  and,  therefore,  the  stronger  that  grows, 
and  with  the  greater  dearness  of  affection  that  is  expressed, 
the  stronger  and  closer  our  union  to  him  becomes.  Now  faith 
and  love  (which  are  our  consent)  receive  here  a  great  increase 
of  strength,  by  the  most  intense  operation  of  them,  which  is 
apt  to  perfect  and  complete  them.  No  man  comes  aright 
hither  that  doth  not  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  (as  you  have 
seen)  resign  himself  unto  the  will  of  Christ,  to  be  moved  and 
governed  at  his  pleasure.  He  must  dissolve  into  the  heart  of 
his  Saviour  (if  I  may  so  speak),  to  have  no  motion  but  accord- 
ing as  that  beats ;  so  that  his  whole  Ufe  should  be  but  a  pulse 

<=  1  Cor.  X.  i6.  '  Life  of  Christ,'  part  iii.  sect.  15. 

•1  [in  loc.  Horn.  xxiv.  §  2.  torn.  x.    Disc.  19.  §  3.  vol.  ii.  p.  640.] 
p.  213  C.     Compare  Jer.  Taylor,       ^  [torn.  i.  p.  515  A.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  ISupper. 


145 


answering  to  the  heart  of  Christ.  And  so  Cyril  <"  brings  in 
Christ  calHng  upon  men,  and  saying,  I  am  the  bread  of  life ; 
elabi^aaOd  fxe  KaOAirep  (viJ.r]v  iv  rw  {//xere'/ow  (pvpajxaTL,  '  take  me 
in  as  a  leaven  to  diffuse  itself  through  your  whole  mass.'  Be 
you  even  leavened  with  me,  that  every  bit  of  you  may  taste  of 
me.  This  can  be  effected  by  nothing  else  but  a  hearty  con- 
junction of  our  wills  with  Christ.  We  must  put  ourselves 
wholly  out  of  our  own  power,  as  the  wife  doth  when  she  gives 
herself  to  her  husband  ;  and  the  more  we  can  get  out  of  our- 
selves, so  as  to  have  no  proper  will  of  our  own,  the  more  we 
become  one  with  him.  When  we  feel  not  ourselves  to  be  any- 
thing at  all,  nor  to  have  any  interest  different  from  that  of  his, 
then  we  and  he  are  made  perfectly  one,  or  rather  we  are  not, 
but  he  is  all.  Now  this  abolition  of  propriety  in  ourselves  is 
much  promoted  by  the  remembrance  of  Christ's  death,  and  his 
un valuable  love,  whereby  we  become  dead,  and  are  even 
snatched  and  I'avished  from  ourselves.  Whatsoever  other 
unions  there  may  be,  they  all  wait  and  attend  upon  this  which 
lays  the  foundation  of  them.  Yea,  by  this  faith  and  love  our 
hearts  are  more  enlarged,  the  vessels  of  our  souls  are  rendered 
more  capable,  and  the  temple  of  Christ  is  much  more  amplified 
to  receive  more  of  God's  presence.  And  that  is  the  next  thing. 

III.  The  Holy  Spirit  is  here  conferred  on  us  in  larger  mea- 
sures, which  is  the  very  bond  and  ligament  that  ties  us  to  him. 
For  this  union  is  not  only  such  a  moral  union  as  is  between 
husband  and  wife  (which  is  made  by  love),  or  between  king 
and  subjects  (which  is  made  by  laws) ;  but  such  a  natural 
union  as  is  between  head  and  members,  the  vine  and  branches, 
which  is  made  by  one  spirit  or  life  dwelling  in  the  whole. 

For  the  understanding  of  this  (which  I  shall  insist  on  longer 
than  the  rest)  you  must  consider  these  things  : 

I .  That  our  union  with  Christ  is  set  forth  by  many  things 
in  Scripture,  or  in  St.  Chrysostom's  phrases,  bia  TroWoiv  fjnas 
v-nobeiyiidTwv  hoX,  '  he  unites  us  to  himself  after  many  pat- 
terns.' I  think  there  is  not  a  better  collection  of  them  than  we 
meet  with  in  him.  He  is  the  head,"  saith  he^^,  "  we  are  the 
body  ;  he  is  the  foundation,  we  arc  the  building  ;  he  is  the 

f  Horn,  in  Myst.  Coen.  [torn.  v.  s  [Horn.  viii.  in  i.  ad  Cor.  [§  4. 
part.  2.  p.  373  D.]  torn.  x.  p.  70  C]       "  [Ibid.] 

PATRICK,  VOL.  I.  L 


146 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


vine,  we  are  the  branches ;  he  is  tlie  bridegroom,  we  are  the 
bride ;  he  is  the  shepherd,  we  are  the  sheep ;  he  is  the  way, 
we  are  the  travellers  ;  we  are  the  temple  and  he  is  the  inhabi- 
tant ;  he  is  the  first-born,  we  are  his  brethren  ;  he  is  the  heir, 
we  the  coheirs ;  he  is  the  life,  we  are  the  living,  &c. ;  all  these 
things  tvMo-iv  iixcpaCvei,  '  do  shew  an  union,'  and  such  an  one 
that  will  not  admit  the  least  thing  to  come  between  them." 

2.  Observe,  that  the  highest  and  closest  union  is  that  wliich 
is  made  by  one  spirit  and  life  moving  in  the  whole.  And  there- 
fore I  take  notice  that  the  Scripture  delights  most  frequently 
to  use  the  two  first  examples,  of  a  body  and  a  building,  and 
those  that  are  nearest  to  these.  Now  because  a  building  hath 
no  life,  but  yet  by  its  firmness  and  strength  doth  notably  set 
forth  the  firmness  of  the  union  that  is  between  Christ  and  his 
people ;  therefore  the  apostle  puts  both  these  together,  and 
calls  Christ  a  living  stone,  and  those  that  come  to  him  lively 
or  living  stones,  which  are  built  up  a  spiritual  house  or  temple, 
where  they  olfer  spiritual  sacrifices  unto  God'.  That  union 
therefore  is  most  perfect  which  is  made  by  life,  though  others 
may  be  of  greatest  strength  ;  and  therefore  the  apostle  applies 
it  even  to  things  without  life,  that  he  might  the  better  shew  the 
union  between  Christ  and  his  members  by  one  life  is  in  strength 
more  like  the  solidness  of  a  temple  than  any  other  thing,  whose 
parts  are  so  cemented  as  if  they  would  last  as  long  as  the  world. 

3.  We  must  observe,  that  things  at  the  greatest  distance 
may  be  united  by  one  spirit  of  life  actuating  them  both ;  and 
so  may  Christ  and  we,  though  we  enjoy  not  his  bodily  pre- 
sence. It  is  truly  noted  by  a  most  reverend  person'',  that  the 
formal  reason  of  the  union  that  is  made  between  the  parts  of 
our  body,  consists  not  in  their  continuity  and  touching  of  each 
other,  but  in  the  animation  of  them  by  one  and  the  same  spirit 
which  ties  them  all  together.  If  the  spirit  withdraw  itself  from 
any  part  so  that  it  be  mortified,  it  presently  remains  as  if  it 
were  not  of  the  body,  though  its  parts  still  touch  the  next 

'  I  Pet.  ii.  4,  5.  natural  body),  but  in  the  animation 

^  Archbishop  Usher.  ["  Nay,  if  we  thereof  by  one  and  the  same  spirit." 

mark  it  well,  we  shall  find  it  to  be  — Ussher,  Sermon  on  i  Cor.  x.  17, 

thus  in  using  of  our  own  bodies,  preached  before  the  Commons  House 

that  the  formal  reason  of  the  union  of  Parhament   in   St.  Margaret's 

of  the  members  consisteth  not  in  the  Church  at  Westminster,  Feb.  i8th, 

continuity  of  the  parts  (though  that  162".  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  433.] 
also  be  requisite  to  the  unity  of  a 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lard's  Supper. 


147 


member  to  it.  And  so  wc  see  in  trees,  if  any  branch  be  de- 
prived of  the  vegetative  spirit,  it  drops  from  the  tree  as  now 
no  more  belonging  to  it.  On  the  other  side,  you  see  the  toes 
have  an  union  with  the  head  (though  at  a  distance)  not  only 
by  the  intervening  of  many  parts  that  reach  from  them  unto 
it,  but  by  the  soul  that  is  present  in  the  furthest  member,  and 
gives  the  head  as  speedy  notice  of  what  is  done  in  the  remotest 
part,  as  if  it  were  the  next  door  to  the  brain.  And  this  it 
doth  without  tlie  assistance  of  the  neighbouring  parts,  that 
should  whisper  the  grief  of  the  toes  from  one  to  the  other  till 
the  head  hear,  but  without  the  least  trouble  to  any  of  them 
which  do  not  feel  their  pain.  If  you  should  suppose  therefore 
our  body  to  be  as  high  as  the  heavens,  and  the  head  of  it  to 
touch  the  throne  of  God,  and  the  feet  to  stand  upon  his  foot- 
stool the  earth,  no  sooner  could  the  head  think  of  moving  a 
toe,  but  presently  it  would  stir  ;  and  no  sooner  could  any  pain 
befal  the  most  distant  part,  than  the  head  would  be  advised  of 
it.  Which  must  be  by  virtue  of  that  spirit  which  is  conceived 
ahke  present  to  every  part,  and  therefore  that  must  be  taken 
likewise  to  be  the  reason  of  that  union  which  is  among  them 
all.  Just  so  may  you  apprehend  the  union  to  be  between 
Christ  our  Head  and  us  his  members :  although  in  regard  of 
his  corporal  presence  he  be  in  the  heavens,  ivhich  must  receive 
him  until  the  time  of  the  restitution  of  all  tilings^,  yet  he  is 
here  with  us  always,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world^,  in  regard 
of  his  Holy  Spirit  working  in  us.  By  this  he  is  sensible  of  all 
our  needs,  and  by  the  vital  influences  of  it  in  every  pai't  he 
joins  the  whole  body  fitly  together,  so  that  he  and  it  make  one 
Christ,  according  as  the  apostle  saith.  As  the  body  is  one,  and 
hath  many  members,  and  all  the  members  of  that  one  body, 
being  many,  are  one  body,  so  also  is  Chrisf".  And  that  this 
union  is  wrought  by  the  Spirit  (which  every  true  Christian 
hath  dwelhng  in  him"),  the  next  verse  will  tell  you.  We  are  all 
baptized  into  one  body  by  one  Spiritv,  &c.  Which  will  lead 
me  to  the  fourth  thing,  for  which  all  this  was  said. 

4.  We  receive  of  this  Spirit  when  we  worthily  communicate 
at  the  supper  of  the  Lord,  according  as  the  apostle  in  that 


'  Acts  iii.  21. 

Matt,  xxviii.  20. 
"  I  Cor.  xii.  12. 


"  1  Cor.  iii.  16,  vi.  19;  Rom.  viii. 
9.  II- 

P  Ver.  13. 


148 


Mensa  Mystica :  or, 


13th  verse  is  thought  to  say,  We  have  been  all  made  to  drink 
into  one  Spirits,  i.  e.  we  have  all  reason  to  agree  well  together, 
for  there  is  but  one  Spirit  that  animates  the  whole  body  of  us, 
which  we  receive  at  the  table  of  the  Lord  when  we  drink  the 
cup  of  blessing.  One  Christian  doth  not  drink  out  of  the  same 
cup  a  spirit  of  peace,  and  another  Christian  a  spirit  of  conten- 
tion;  but  as  Chrysostom"^  expounds  it,  irpbs  ttjv  avrriv  TjXdoixfv 
fj-va-Taycoyiav,  &c.  '  we  all  come  to  be  initiated  in  the  same  se- 
crets;' we  all  enjoy  the  same  table,  and  though  he  doth  not  say 
(as  it  follows  in  him)  that  we  eat  the  same  body  and  drink  the 
same  blood,  yet  since  he  makes  mention  of  the  Spirit,  he  saith 
both.  For  in  both  we  are  watered  with  one  and  the  same 
Spirit,  even  as  trees  (saith  he)  are  watered  out  of  one  and  the 
same  fountain.  Or  if  we  understand  the  apostle's  words  of  the 
Spirit  received  aTro  (^airTCaiJLaTos, '  after  baptism,'  but  irpo  hvcttt]- 
p[(ov,  'before  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  supper s,'  whereby  he 
further  waters  (so  the  word  ttotiXo)  is  used  i  Cor.  iii.  6,  7,  8.) 
that  which  he  hath  planted ;  yet  still  it  will  be  true,  that  at 
this  time  good  Christians  do  receive  larger  irrigations  from 
that  Fountain  of  life,  that  they  may  shoot  up  to  a  greater 
height,  and  bring  forth  more  fruit.  For  this  spirit  is  always 
needful,  being  that  which  maintains  our  life,  and  it  is  given  in 
the  use  of  those  means  that  God  hath  instituted  for  increase  in 
grace ;  of  which  means  this  holy  feast  being  one  of  the  chief, 
that  life-giving  Spirit  must  be  conceived  to  lay  faster  hold  of 
us,  and  knit  us  more  unto  our  Head.  It  is  the  vis  vicaria  of 
the  Lord  Jesus,  that  power  which  supplies  his  place  here  in 
the  world,  by  which  he  is  present  to  our  souls.  Now  when 
shall  we  conceive  it  more  present  than  when  we  remember  him 
whose  Spirit  it  is,  and  when  he  doth  exhibit  himself  unto  us 
under  these  shadows  of  bread  and  wine  ?  These  are  tokens  of 
his  presence,  and  represent  him  to  us ;  the  Spirit  is  that  whereby 
he  is  present,  and  therefore  here  it  must  be  again  conferred  on 
us.  Here  it  doth  take  a  strong  seizure  of  us ;  here  it  possesses 
itself  more  fully  of  all  our  faculties ;  here  it  gives  us  more 
sensible  touches  from  our  Head,  and  makes  us  feel  more  vital 

q  [Ilai/Tfs  iv  nvevfia  eTroTLcrdrjfiev,  ^  Vid.  Chrysost.  [ibid.  p.  271  A.] 
— Chrysost.  in  loc.  horn.  XXX.  torn.  X.  et  Theophyl.  [in  loc.  torn.  ii.  p.  196 
p.  270  E.]  '  [Ibid.]  E.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Stepper.  IM) 

influences  descending  thence  unto  us  ;  and  so  (it  being  the 
bond  of  union)  must  needs  strengthen  and  confirm  us  in  an 
inseparable  conjunction  with  him.  Christ  doth  not  descend 
locally  unto  us  that  we  may  feed  on  him  ;  but  as  the  sun  touch- 
eth  us  by  his  beams  without  removing  out  of  its  sphere,  so 
Christ  comes  down  upon  us  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
moving  by  its  heavenly  virtue  in  our  hearts,  though  he  remain 
above.  And  this  virtue  coming  from  our  Head,  the  man  Christ 
Jesus,  it  doth  both  quicken  us  to  his  service,  and  tie  us  to  liim, 
and  likewise  we  are  said  to  partake  of  his  body  and  blood,  be- 
cause we  sensibly  feel  the  virtue  and  efficacy  of  them  in  ourselves. 

And  do  not  wonder  that  I  say  we  are  more  strongly  united 
to  Christ  hereby  ;  for  union  is  not  to  be  conceived  without  all 
latitude,  but  to  be  looked  on  as  capable  of  increase  or  diminu- 
tion, and  as  that  which  may  grow  loose  and  slack,  or  be  made 
more  perfect  and  compact.  As  it  is  with  the  soul  and  body,  so 
it  is  between  Christ  and  his  members.  Though  the  soul  be  not 
quite  unloosed  from  the  body,  yet  by  sickness  the  bonds  may 
become  rotten,  or  by  fasting  they  may  grow  weak  and  feeble, 
so  that  it  may  have  but  a  slender  hold  of  its  companion,  and  a 
little  violence  may  snap  them  asunder.  Even  so  though  our 
souls  be  tied  to  Christ,  yet  by  our  daily  infirmities,  or  the  fre- 
quent incursions  of  our  enemies,  or  by  long  abstaining  from 
this  holy  food,  and  other  negligences,  we  shall  find  a  kind  of 
looseness  in  our  souls,  and  that  we  are  going  off  from  Christ, 
and  tending  to  a  dissolution,  unless  we  gird  up  the  loins  of  our 
mind,  and  be  vigilant  and  sober,  watching  vmto  all  holy  duties. 
And  therefore  as  in  the  former  case  we  must  betake  ourselves 
to  our  physic,  and  food  and  good  exercise  for  the  making  the 
bonds  sound  and  strong,  so  in  this  we  must  have  recourse  to 
the  holy  feast  we  are  speaking  of  (which  is  both  meat  and  me- 
dicine) and  we  must  stir  up  the  grace  that  is  in  us,  and  beg 
more  of  the  Spirit  of  God  that  may  strengthen  the  things  that 
remain  and  are  ready  to  die. 

To  receive  the  Spirit  not  by  measure,  is  the  privilege  of  none 
but  our  head.  We  that  receive  from  his  fulness,  have  not  our 
portion  all  at  once,  but  must  daily  look  for  a  supply  of  the 
Spirit  of  Jesus  Christ  K  And  so  the  apostle  saith,  the  right- 
eousness of  God  is  revealed  from  faith  to  faith^;  and  wc 
t  Phil.  i.  19.  "  Rom.  i.  17. 


150 


Mensa  Mystica :  or. 


must  ffroiv  up  into  him  in  all  things,  which  is  the  head,  even 
Christ^.  Wliich  shews  that  we  may  be  made  one  with  him  in 
a  more  excellent  manner  than  when  we  were  first  born,  be- 
cause the  Spirit  of  Christ  grows  unto  a  greater  strength  within 
us,  as  we  receive  more  of  heavenly  nutriment  into  our  souls. 

And  this  is  aU  that  is  meant  by  the  real  presence  of  Christ  in 
this  sacrament,  which  the  church  speaks  of  and  behoves ;  as  it 
is  one  reason  liliewise  of  the  change  which  is  so  much  noised, 
because  by  his  power  these  things  become  effectual  to  so  great 
purposes,  when  they  are  holily  received.  Our  Lord  doth  call 
these  signs  by  the  name  of  the  things  they  signify,  because  in 
a  spu'itual  manner  his  body  and  blood  are  present  to  us,  viz. 
by  the  communication  of  that  to  us  which  they  did  pm'chase 
for  us.  From  the  sacred  humanity  of  Christ  Ufe  and  spirit  is 
derived  unto  us,  as  motion  is  from  the  head  unto  the  members. 
And  the  power  of  the  Godhead  doth  diffuse  the  virtue  or  ope- 
ration of  the  human  nature,  to  the  enlivening  the  hearts  of 
men  that  riglitly  i-eceive  the  sacramental  pledges.  Manna  is 
called  '  spiritual  bread  7,'  and  water  that  came  out  of  the  rock  is 
named  '  spiritual  drink,'  and  the  rock  is  said  to  be  Christ,  be- 
cause they  did  signify  him,  and  were  tokens  of  his  presence ; 
and  therefore  much  more  may  this  bread  and  wine  be  called 
his  body  and  blood,  and  be  spoken  of  as  if  they  were  himself, 
because  they  do  more  lively  represent  him,  and  he  hath  an- 
nexed his  presence  more  powerfully  to  them.  Or  as  one  of 
the  ancients  saith^,  they  are  called  his  body  and  blood,  not 
because  they  are  properly  so,  sed  quod  in  se  mysterium  cor- 
poris ejus  et  sanguinis  contineant,  '  but  because  they  contain 
in  them  the  mystery  of  liis  body  and  blood.' 

And  this  (as  I  said)  is  all  the  change  that  we  are  to  under- 
stand in  them,  accorchng  as  Theodoret^  doth  excellently  ex- 
press it :  "  Christ,"  saith  he,  "  calls  them  by  the  name  of  the 
things  they  represent,  not  changing  the  nature,  but  adding 
grace  unto  the  nature."  And  what  that  grace  is  I  have  already 
told  you  in  this  chapter.  So  that  the  real  presence  is  not  to 
be  sought  in  the  bread  and  wine,  but  in  those  that  receive 

^  Eph.  iv.  15.  Vet.  Patr.  torn.  x.  p.  79  G.J 
y  I  Cor.  X.  3,  4.  =^  Oil  Trjv  (f)v<Tiv  ^leralSaXibv,  aWa 

'  [Faciindiis,  pro  defensione  triiim  rijv  xn'piw  ttj  t^vud  npoaTtdeiKms. 

rapiUilonim,  lib.  ix.  in  Max.  Bibl,  Dialog,  i,  [rap.  8.  torn,  iv.  p.  26.] 


A  Discourse  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 


151 


them,  according  as  learned  Hooker''  speaks.  For  Christ  saith 
first,  Take  and  eat;  and  then  after  that,  This  is  my  body. 
Before  we  take  and  eat,  it  is  not  the  body  of  Christ  unto  us ; 
but  when  we  take  and  eat  as  we  ought,  then  he  gives  us  his 
whole  self,  and  puts  us  into  possession  of  all  such  saving  graces 
as  his  sacrificed  body  can  yield,  and  our  souls  do  then  need. 
The  change  is  in  our  souls,  and  not  in  the  sacrament ;  we  are, 
though  not  transubstantiated  into  another  body,  yet  metamor- 
phosed and  transformed  into  another  likeness,  by  the  offering 
up  of  our  bodies  to  God,  which  is  a  piece  of  this  service, 
Rom.  xii.  1,2.  And  so  some  observe  that  all  other  meat  is  re- 
ceived as  it  is  in  itself,  and  no  otherwise ;  but  this  meat  is 
diverse  as  it  is  received.  Other  meat  affecteth  and  altereth 
the  taste,  but  here  the  taste  altereth  the  meat.  For  if  it  be 
worthily  received,  it  is  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ ;  if  un- 
worthily, it  is  but  bare  bread  and  wine. 

But  yet  this  must  be  cautiously  understood  when  we  thus 
speak ;  for  this  presence  is  the  bread,  though  in  it.  Though  it 
be  on'iy  in  us,  yet  it  comes  with  it  unto  us  if  we  will  receive 
him ;  because  else  we  shall  not  know  how  unworthy  persons 
are  said  to  be  guilty  of  his  body  and  blood,  if  he  be  not  pre- 
sent with  his  body  and  blood  to  work  in  men's  souls. 

This  hkewise  is  to  be  further  observed  for  the  better  under- 
standing of  it ;  that  the  devil  who  loves  to  imitate  God  (that 
he  may  the  better  cozen  and  cheat),  doth  seldom  manifest  his 
power  to  any  great  purpose,  but  when  he  is  called  by  some  of 
his  own  ceremonies  and  sacraments  that  he  hath  appointed. 
This  doth  but  tell  us  that  Christ  is  then  most  powerfully 
present,  when  we  use  his  rites  which  he  hath  instituted  and 
hallowed  as  special  remembrances  of  his  love,  and  testimo- 
nies of  our  love  unto  him.  So  that  we  may  come  hither,  and 
expect  that  we  shall  feel  more  at  such  a  time,  and  in  the  use  of 
such  means,  thaa  at  or  in  others,  because  he  hath  made  them 
his  body  and  blood  in  such  sort  as  I  have  declared. 

Other  union  tlian  this  (by  Christ's  Spirit)  I  know  no  use  of, 
though  we  should  believe  that  which  we  do  not  understand,  I 

^  ["  The  real  presence  of  Christ's  ceiver  of  the  sacrament." — Eccles. 

most  blessed  body  ar.d  blood  is  not  Pol.  book  v.  chap.  67.  §  vi.  vol.  ii. 

therefore  to  be  sought  for  in  the  p.  352.] 
sacrament,  but  in  th-j  worthy  re- 


152 


Mensa  Mystic